


Hermione

by lordelannette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Blood and Gore, Caretaker Harry, Doctor Draco, Doctor Lily Evans, Drama & Romance, Experiment Hermione, F/M, Hermione is Insanely Intelligent, Isolated, Psychological Drama, So is draco, doctor lupin, laboratory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-09 18:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15273222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordelannette/pseuds/lordelannette
Summary: Draco looked towards the graying doctor, watching as the older man spoke, "She exceeded our wildest expectations. Hermione was exactly what we had intended- a hybrid, biological organism." They told her that to error was human but they kept forgetting that she wasn't one. (Non-Magical AU)





	1. Chapter 1

A group of scientists held clipboards in their hands, pens and pencils hovering as they stared ahead at the sight before them. Many were frozen in shock, others too amazed to say a word as they watched in fascination. Ahead of them, in the dark with only a single overhead light, sat a mere girl, appearing no older than five years old, twisting and turning an object in her hand. Just as she picked up the object, with a flash of movement of her hands, she placed it back down and moved onto the next. Each cube she picked up was larger than the last, and solved faster than its predecessor. They didn't have time to glance at the clock before them, afraid they would miss any of her movements.

Greedy eyes continued to bore into the child as she continued to amaze them, discarding cube after cube without pause. The girl sat emotionless, deep into concentration as her fingers glided over the patterns before her, taking only a fraction of a second to set the pattern correctly before moving onward. Several wires were attached onto various parts of her skin- at her temples, the base of her skull, ribs, wrists, chest - they were everywhere, taking their programed measurements and calculations before sending the figures into their designated machines. Monitors were blaring around the scientists, lights flashing and needles spiking as the girl continued to do as told. But she paid them no mind. She was used to them by now.

Alas, her fingers picked up the remaining puzzle and pulled it in front of her. She didn't bat an eyelash as she turned her wrist- once, twice, three times - before placing it back onto the table. With no other contraption to solve, she intertwined her fingers together and placed her hands onto the table along with the puzzles she had solved. She turned her eyes to stare at the glass that shielded her from her audience and waited.

On the other side of the glass, however, the scientists had burst into hushed whispers, their writing equipment flaring across their papers. At the front of the room, behind the numerous monitors, stood two seperate scientists, both grinning in pride at their success.

It had taken the girl 7.3 seconds to perform twelve of the most difficult puzzles on the planet, two being specifically designed to be impossible to solve. Yet, she had done them all.

With ease and without hesitation.

One of the scientists in the audience stepped forward. "Congratulations doctors," he stuck his hand out and shook both hands of the ones in charge. He had a large grin of satisfaction on his face. The older man nodded his head towards the girl behind the glass, "You have managed to create the accomplishment of the century. We have all agreed to continue sponsoring the project and our companies will be in contact with the corporation immediately following our departure." The man took another step forward, his bespeckled eyes never wavering from the girl. "This is...exquisite work you have both accomplished. She's absolutely perfect."

Both doctors said their thanks, promising to share the results of their next testing, and watched as the audience of scholars dispersed from the viewing room.

A hand pressed down onto a large, blinking red button before speaking into the microphone. "Well done, Hermione."

The girl beamed at the glass.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

There was static playing within his head, getting louder and louder until it was all Draco could hear as it shifted from the right lobe of his brain to the left, pounding against his skull. Silver eyes blinked in confusion; his pupils constricting from their previous dilated form.

He shook his head, clearing the fog that had clouded his senses, and glanced down at his hands that were glued upon his keyboard. He lifted his fingers off of the keys and flexed his hands. Several pops filled the air of his office as he clenched his fists, relieving the tension that had knitted itself through his phalanges.

He brought his head up to look at the bright computer screen and frowned as he scanned its contents. He had just finished his dissertation for the week. A tedious document that was over three dozen pages long, all single spaced. His frown deepened when he glanced at his clock. It was barely a quarter past eleven. He had barely started the introduction of his report when he had walked into his office at eight this morning. That hadn't taken long at all.

Draco had barely logged off of his computer when his phone buzzed to life. He didn't have to look at it to know who had sent him a notification. It was always the same person. Crouch. His boss.

He left his station immediately, taking care to lock his office door behind him as he went.

"Bloody hell," a voice rang out. It was one he recognized. A good colleague of his, he supposed, since happened to share the same hall that held both of their offices. Conversations were kept at a minimal, but for Draco, it was more than he had ever shared with another.

"Please tell me that you are not done already."

Draco turned to look at Dr. Theo Nott, but didn't stop his stride towards the elevators. "With the latest dissertation, yes," he answered. "For the day, however, that would be a no. Crouch just asked for my presence in his office."

Nott's brows rose high on his forehead. "You know," he shook his head, "I have been working on the same report for the past two months. Sometimes it's hard to believe you're even human."

A forced laugh lodged itself out of his throat at Nott's piss-poor attempt of a joke and instead of responding, he reached forward to press the button that would call the elevator. "As much as I would like to stay and chat," he turned to look at his colleague once more, "we both know I mustn't keep our boss waiting."

The mention of their supervisor had its desired effects. Nott straightened up, "Of course, of course," he nodding his head in a wordless parting. Draco faced forward but listened as Nott's footsteps faded down the hall, eventually disappearing. When the bell chimed, signaling the arrival of the elevator, he sighed in relief. He would have the compartment all to himself.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The electric panel before him was flashing against the dim lighting of the elevator, trying to capture the attention he wasn't giving it. He could feel the forces of gravity tugging at his stomach, faintly, as he flew higher and higher into the air. Yet, all he could do was stare at the highlighted button of the top floor. His destination. He lifelessly counted each chim that rang throughout the compartment, signaling each floor he passed.

9...10...11

He rolled his shoulders, scowling as the fabric of his suit jacket protested, and sighed impatiently. Could this thing go any slower? It could be alot worse, he thought to himself. He could have had to share the bloody thing, being forced to listen to some imbeciles drone on and on about their lives. Being alone meant that he could appreciate the quiet, the peace, the serenity it was to only hear the soft, whimsical music that was drifting out of the overhead speaker.

15...16...17

Draco relaxed against the paneled wall, wrapping his hands around the wooden handles on both sides of him and squeezing. He prayed to whatever higher force there was that no one was going to be joining him on the ride. He really didn't want to deal with anyone, especially from these top floors. These people, these vermins acted as if the mere ground they walked upon was nothing but gold plated tiles; as if they had expected nothing more than to have others fall at their feet.

24...25...26

He scoffed at his thought. Did those people really think he was intimidated of them? Did they think they were able to make his palms sweat like the other disposable workers here? If anything, it was their palms that started to sweat. It was their smiles that would stretch in uncertainty at his presence, not the other way around.

They all knew who he was. They knew he couldn't care less about them or whatever their imposing titles were. Those people knew he loathed them so it was useless to say otherwise because he, truly, didn't give a damn and wouldn't hesitate to let them know.

It's just who he was; the well known and arrogant but deeply respected and feared, Dr. Draco Malfoy.

He knew his place here, knew that he wasn't the average worker like all the others. Unlike everyone else, he hadn't applied for any job here at the corporation. Instead, the man in charge had come directly to him.

He had only been out of his doctorate stage for less than a year- a few months actually - but his grades had been the highest ever achieved. It only benefited him even further that he had graduated early. He had always been intelligent, that he could could remember. He may have only been twenty three years old, but he knew he was quite successful for being so young. His success alone was the reason why he was always being called up to Crouch's office.

28...29...30

The metal doors opened with a ding.

He took a deep breath before pushing forward.

As always there was no one in sight, excluding the boss's secretary that sat perched outside of the large doors. There was only one room on the top floor, and that was the office belonging to the boss. It was rare to ever be called up here unless there was a breakthrough in one of the experiments or if there was an emergency, but he had the...delight of being called up here almost on a daily basis. He was only doing his job. When he was called, he went. There was no other option.

He left the elevator, and stridded down the long open space — the soft sound of the heels of his leather shoes tapping against the stone floor and the secretaries obnoxious typing- was the only sound that could be heard.

This was the worst part about having to come up to the top floor. He hated how he always looked at his watch, pretending to be in a hurry, and hated how the bimbo of a secretary would pretend that she didn't see him until he stood right in front of her desk. He hated how she would fake a look of surprise and then recheck the appointment book as if their boss had people coming in and out of his office as if it were a damn bathroom. It wasn't that he had so much dislike towards the secretary, he just didn't like people in general. He had never been a people person, and was damn sure that he never would be. It was just something about the general public that made his skin crawl. Sometimes he cursed his intelligence thinking that it was the problem, but instead, he always settled on believing it was the fault of the people. Their sheer stupidity wasn't something he took lightly.

"Ah yes, Dr. Malfoy," the secretary nasally replied. "Mr. Crouch will see you now."

He hid his grimace and continued past her desk without sparing her a glance. Draco rolled his eyes before reaching down to pull the large door open.

Mr. Crouch was sitting at his desk and going through multiple files, occasionally bringing his attention to the computer on his left. His graying head snapped up, however, as the door closed behind him. It was routine by now that Draco made his way to sit in one of the two chairs available. He always picked the one that gave him the view of the entire room, from the door to the windows and anyone else, had there been anyone actually joining them.

"Draco," Mr. Crouch smiled at him. "Thank you so much for coming as quickly as you have," the older man spoke.

Like he had done with the secretary, Draco nodded his head. He wasn't a talkative man unless the occasion called for it.

As if sensing his wanting of getting down to business, Mr. Crouch grinned and gathered numerous files. The stack was far more thick than he had expected, much more than he had ever seen before. There were at least a twenty separate folders, each secured in sealed folders that had dark letterings stamped across the covers. His eyes widened as he read the word 'SECRETIVE' in thick, bold print. That was most certainly something he had never seen or dealt with before. Usually the research projects that the corporation funded were open to one another, and even the public more times than not.

His brows furrowed in confusion. The amount of work in those folders had to be years long. How long, exactly, had the project been in progress? He couldn't recall any of the research experiments lasting longer than a year, yet, the folders before Crouch had to be the product of decades. What could they possibly be working on? And more importantly, why was it so secretive?

He immediately figured it was something military, or pharmaceutical at least. Medicine was quite tricky to work with because results were always changing as the medications were tweaked. It made sense to be considered 'secretive' if the project was military based, but their corporation never dealt with anything of that sort. Biological warfare could be a strong possibility.

"Draco," Mr. Crouch's voice stirred him from his pondering. "I must discuss with you the basics before I attempt to reveal the information detailed inside these folders. As I'm sure you have seen, this project is the highest priority of the company, and has been for some time. There are only a handful of individuals that know of its content and it must remain that way until further notice. I have asked you here today, because I have decided that it is time for you to join the team in charge of this project.

He swallowed thickly, and stared at Mr. Crouch with unblinking eyes. Whatever was in those folders was big. Probably more advanced than anything he had come across. Ever. The man before him had his full, undivided attention.

"You will be expected to move to a private lot out for an unspecified amount of time. It could be a few weeks, or it could last for years. At the moment, I'm afraid I do not have the entire facts for myself and that's the reason why I have decided to involve you."

His silver eyes widened in shock. Moving? For up to the possibility of numerous years? He couldn't imagine his life any different than it was now. His room, his office...those had been his only source of familiarity for as long as he could remember. It was all he knew. However, he could feel the tingles dancing across his skull at the possibilities of the content within the folders.

"Unfortunately that is all I can tell you at the moment until I get your answer," Mr. Crouch continued.

Draco's gaze snapped to the man. He was...being given a choice?

Mr. Crouch leaned forward. "I need you to decide, Draco."

Before he could stop himself, or think otherwise, his mouth moved to give his reply. "I'm in."


	2. Chapter 2

"Good," Crouch nodded his head. "I'm very pleased to hear that. Ever since you were put into commission, I've wanted to add you to the team."

The reveal from Crouch's string of words made Draco's spine stiffen. "Team, sir?" he clarified, feeling a tinge of disappointment and frustration at the thought of working with others. He hadn't worked with a partner, let alone a team since… well, he couldn't actually remember the last time he worked with anyone beside himself. He had never had to rely on another's capabilities so the thought of having to work as a group troubled him. Did Mr. Crouch no longer have confidence in his abilities? Draco felt a pang shoot through his system. What would he be if his intelligence was no longer the feature that set him apart from the others? What would he be if he was reduced to working with a team? It was an insult.

He swallowed thickly as Mr. Crouch nodded his head once more, his worst trepidation coming true. "Yes," the older man spoke. "At the facility there are eight individuals, all working employees for the Corporation and some of my top researchers. They were all hand picked, by myself," he added. Draco could hear the meaning behind Crouch's words. His boss was telling him that they were all more than capable of keeping up with him, as if the older man had read his thoughts word for word.

He had prepared himself for no more than a few others, two or three at most, but eight? It was a whole bloody task force- more than he thought he could deal with. Opinions would be flying, thoughts shared, points argued, others thinking they were right...as if they were better than him. It was almost too much to fathom.

Could he really do it? A couple hours a day couldn't be that detrimental. Work together, then go home. It would be simple, he tried to reassure himself. Over, over, and over again.

"You will do fine, Draco," Mr. Crouch pushed on. "I am putting my complete trust in you to finish up their work."

Draco's gaze flickered up to the man before him. There were too many questions drifting through his skull, too many different scenarios playing out and switching at the last second that left him unsure. It sent him on edge, fighting the urge to scratch at his skin and start shooting off protocol at the top of his head. He hated the feeling of not knowing, more than anything else, but he was careful to not reveal his true intentions.

"What exactly does that entail, sir?"

Crouch leaned back into his chair. "You will be joining the rest of the faculty by moving into a house that is located on a private section of land that belongs to the corporation." Draco remained silent, noticing that Crouch hadn't answered his question directly. His boss was dragging this out, slowly, revealing piece by piece at a pace that was excruciating for his mind. He wanted answers and fast.

"The others may not appreciate your presence there, but they will have no say so on your part. They each understand that I am the one sending you, therefore, you will act on my orders alone. The staff that I have chosen have been there for far too long, and I have begun to fret that they may have gotten too… attached. I am sending you because you are someone that I trust to take charge. I know you will deliver the results that the others have failed to present."

He eased, somewhat, at Mr. Crouch's admission. So the man wasn't questioning his competencey after all. As long as he would be the one in charge, he supposed it wouldn't be as terrible as he figured. He could play as boss, easily.

Draco found that the more he thought about it, the more eager he became. This would be a new experience and if he could prove his worth to Mr. Crouch, then the man would know that he was more than efficient in taking charge. In fact, doing this would only show that he would be more than capable, overpassing those doctors and scientists that Mr. Crouch had dawned on mere minutes before. His attitude seemed to spike, brows raising slightly at his change of mind.

He allowed himself several moments to find his words, picking each and every single thing he spoke carefully. "And what-," he looked at Mr. Crouch, "-exactly, am I being sent to finish?"

His boss leaned forward, sliding the thick stack of folders across the table until they stopped before him. Draco glanced at them, uncertain of its contents, but one reassuring nod from Crouch was all he needed. Slowly, he allowed his fingers to skim along the surface, opening the one that was positioned on top.

He had never felt his eyes move faster as his mercury orbs flickered across the sheet, moving left to right, further and further down the pages. There was so much information, too much for him to digest all in one sitting. He needed to sit down with each separate folder, and break them down one by one. He wished to do it now, but much to his disappointment, Mr. Crouch hadn't finished their meeting. The man kept talking even when Draco wished he'd stop.

"Seven years ago, two of my top employees came to me with an idea that they had. At the time, I thought it was completely unorthodox, something so far-fetched that they would only be wasting their time and my money." Mr. Crouch shook his head, tapping his knuckle against the shiny surface of his desk. "But they won me over in the end. It had taken them months to get my approval, another half year until I put the project into motion. I can't begin to tell you how many meetings and debates and conferences that I had to sit through because of them, because of their idea. I had, essentially, put this entire corporation into their hands. Their project has been the top priority since it was first created, and has been the most successful break through that I, and many others, have ever seen."

Oh, how he needed to see what was in those folders. The wait was killing him and driving him mad in the process. What could have been so significant that it outweighed all the others? Temperatures below absolute zero, weaknesses of antibiotic-resistance bacteria, quantum teleportation, gravitational pulls of black holes; could those really be anything but the findings of the century? He couldn't comprehend otherwise.

"It had started off simple enough," Mr. Crouch continued, not giving him a chance to interrupt. "The scientists, Dr. Lily Evans and Dr. Remus Lupin, began tweaking genetic genomes. It's been done several times by dozens of other countries, but Dr. Evans and Dr. Lupin took it a step further. They began to synthesize DNA, dissecting and splicing each gene, piece by piece to control the effects. Characteristics, like height and cognitive ability were determined from each of their manipulations, all of their calculations had to be perfect, down to the minuscule detail. I will admit that I become lost at times, when I read over their reports, simply because I lack the knowledge that they have dealt with for the past decade."

Draco's brows lifted. A decade? They had been playing with genetic DNA for over a decade? This was elementary level work, nothing he found impressive or monumentous. There was no longer any excitement at the idea of having to sit in a lab and stare at a petri dish for hours on end, breaking DNA strands to simply put them back together, better and stronger than before. He had already accepted his mission, however, and he knew he wouldn't be given the option to change his mind.

"And once I get the synthesized DNA, what do you wish for me to do next?" he asked. He made sure his tone stayed formal and crisp, just as he was taught.

Mr. Crouch sent him an amused look. "The DNA has already been synthesized, Draco. The incubation period has already been completed, as has the cultivation."

Then what was he needed for?

Draco tilted his head, allowing his face to crease in confusion. "Sir, I must admit that I am having trouble understanding what my role will consist of. What part do I play in completing their project if they have already finished with the cultivation?"

Crouch's grin stretched across his face. It unnerved him, made him feel useless and undermined. Draco's fist clenched tightly as he stared at his boss.

"This, is the step they took further," Crouch explained, regarding him closely. "The genes they have constructed have been encoded directly into the DNA of an organism- a living, breathing human." Unconsciously, Draco's lips parted. "Through their research they have produced a genetically engineered superhuman. You can understand, now, why I had so much apprehension in starting the project. In the beginning, it was much too complex to begin to think about, its capacity was well beyond my reach as well as many of the individuals working for this corporation. The concept had only ever been seen in entertainment, through movies and books… the sheer possibility of super intelligence exceeding the maximum ability ever achieved, other wordly by all means."

Draco was at a loss of words, his brain desperately trying to analyze the situation and finding a reaction that he needed to deliver. But he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried to force himself. What was he to say?

He stared, unblinkingly, as Crouch reached over and pulled open a file. Aging hands opened it before tilting it to show Draco a picture of what appeared to be a newborn baby.

He was quick to flick his attention back on Mr. Crouch.

"This was the first test subject," Crouch said, with his eyes trained on the picture. Draco, however, didn't bother giving it a second glance. "A boy. The doctors had considered it a success since they had managed to get its heart beating, but it only survived for thirty-eight minutes. Its lungs and other organs weren't functioning properly, disallowing the fetus to take a breath of its own." Again, Crouch reached over to grab yet another file, ushering it in front of Draco just as he had done with the first. "Test subject number two," the man pointed his finger to another newborn, "was another boy. Like the first, it was met with severe complications once the doctors were able to create the synthetic heart beat. From the reports, it was able to live for two days but was never able to be taken off of the machines. At both of the losses, I had considered pulling the plug on the project. I had felt that although the finishing product would be too great to pass up, the concept was simply too far...advanced for our time. The corporation had lost so much with the failures but both Dr. Evans and Dr. Lupin begged for another chance and I figured what else did we have to lose? If I hadn't decided to give them their last opportunity to achieve the results, we would not be here as we are now."

With purpose, and a proud grin of satisfaction, Crouch flipped open another folder. This one, however, was much thicker than the others. "This, Draco, is test subject three."

He inhaled sharply as Crouch pushed the edges into his own hands. From the feel alone, there were stacks upon stacks of pictures. Part of him didn't want to look down. But the other part, a part driven by something he knew not of, made his eyes flutter down, devouring each picture and memorizing every shade, shape, and angle.

The first one was of a newborn baby being held by doctors. Dr. Evans and Dr. Lupin, he figured. His gaze lingered on their faces. They looked happy, so much more elated than he had ever seen before. It juxtaposed greatley against the baby in their joined hands as the infant cried its heart out, thrashing its arms and kicking its legs as life was shoved into its body. He knew what a healthy newborn looked like and the one in the pictures was one of them. If he had seen the baby without being informed of its difference, of what made it so unique compared to all others, he would have never assumed that the baby was a genetic byproduct of perfect hand picked DNA. It looked so normal.

Almost hesitant, he moved onto the next photo.

Then the next, and the next, and the next, until he was flipping through them with such fervor that he didn't register the numerous paper cuts that sliced against his fingertips.

The pictures fascinated him, knowing that the baby was growing with each new snapshot, further learning and adapting with the genes that made up its body- her body, he should add. Unlike the other two subjects, this one was a girl.

But as he flipped through the pictures, with a start, he realized that the baby was no longer just that. The next clusters were of a toddler; running, clapping, jumping, playing outside, with a bright smile on her face and brown curls spilling down her slim shoulders. There were some of her eating, some of her painting, playing chess, counting her fingers, tying her shoes, climbing a rock, skipping, laughing, braiding her hair, looking through a telescope, reading, coloring, stretching, cooking, holding a flower, playing a piano -

He stopped on the last picture.

He had been so immersed, so consumed, that he hadn't realized that the toddler was no more. In her place, was a teenage girl, a few years younger than himself. Draco's thumb brushed against the smooth surface, tracing over the young girl. He stared at the picture, taking in every physical aspect of her. She was pale, rivaling that of his own, with chestnut brown locks that toppled down her back and past her shoulder blades in soft waves. Her features were sharp yet they also had a distinct feminine quality that was mesmerizing to the naked eye. He knew that if he were to construct her face with a pencil and paper, that all of her lines and curves would hit every mark of perfection. All of her measurements would be perfect because it was how she was designed. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. As he stared at her picture, he couldn't remember ever seeing another woman who had looks that came close to the ones that he held in his hands.

Something jarred within his chest.

He forced his gaze to turn back up to Mr. Crouch, smothering the need to shift uncomfortably as he realized Crouch had been staring at his reactions. The older man's eyes were clouded, his head tilted to the side as if in contemplation.

After a thick silence, Crouch continued, "Her name is Hermione, the only female subject they made, and she is your assignment. The faculty involved has become quite...fond of her, but I need you to make sure they are still taking the steps necessary to further her capabilities. Don't be deceived by charts and percentages, Draco. I want the subject to be finished. I want to have it brought here and tested for my own eyes to see, but I want the final say to be from you. I haven't received an update from them in two weeks, therefore, that either means the subject hasn't advanced any further or it has nothing else to learn. And if the later were the case, then they should have alerted me."

Draco watched as Crouch leaned forward in his chair and plucked the last picture out of his hands. His boss held the picture of the girl between two fingers and leveled a look towards him. "I need you to bring this to me. I need you to finish what they have started. Do you understand the protocol, Draco? Do you see what must be done?"

He sat up straight, his chin lifting slightly into the air. Of course he understood. It was what he did best. Do the job. Follow protocol. Report back. Draco shifted his mercury orbs from his boss to the picture of the girl, then back again.

"How much time do I have?" his voice sounded raw, almost foreign to his own ears.

Mr. Crouch waved his hand into the air, "However long you need. I don't want you to hurry, take your time in making sure everything gets completed. Just get the job done and make sure it's ready to be brought here."

Draco nodded his head, hearing the dismissal for what it was, and started to gather the files. He didn't want to spend anymore time in this place, not when there was a mountain of paperwork to go through. Not that he minded. He had never felt more...enlivened before. With haste, he stood from his chair to make his exit, however, just as he pushed the door open, Mr. Crouch's voice called out once more.

"I expect news the moment of your arrival, Draco, and an update every weekend even if the findings are insubstantial in the beginning. It would do you well to remember just who is in charge when you arrive, Draco."

With a firm nod, he answered, "Of course, sir." And then he was gone, not once looking back or missing a step all the way back into the confinements of his office.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Lily, we mustn't worry about it," dark eyes trailed the fretful movements of the redheaded woman as she paced back and forth, her gaze staring beyond the glass and focused on the individual inside. Hermione was sitting on her bed, criss crossed, lost in a thick book as the rest of the world shifted around her, unsuspecting to the changes to come.

Dr. Evans spun around at her colleagues words, eyes wide in disbelief. "How can we not worry, Remus? Whoever they send from corporate will be here for only one thing. We knew this day would come, but for it to happen like this? We are the ones who put our time and our effort into this, into her-," her green eyes shot back to the glass, "- and for Crouch to send someone else, someone different, to finish our work-"

"I know, I know," Remus sighed.

"They want her finished. They want all of this- all of our life's work- done. They want her to be nothing more than company profit. They will exploit her, Remus. Are we to just sit by and let it happen?"

Dr. Lupin frowned, his own troubled gaze drifting onto Hermione; their masterpiece.

"We've spent all this time telling her that it is okay to make a mistake, that to err is the human way of life, but they do not see the human part of her. They see the science, the facts, the data. They do not see her."

"We must remember what we originally set out to do," Remus reminded the woman before him. Back then, they had seemed so young, so full of dreams and ambitions, so ready to please their boss and their other colleagues. They had wanted to create life, which they had now done but what price would they have to pay? What price would she have to pay?

A sad smile tugged at Dr. Evans lips. "I remember every single day, Remus. Every time I look at her, I see all that we have accomplished. I see our successes...but I am not ignorant to say that I do not see our failures either."

His gaze shot to the woman at his side. "Lily," he shook his head in a warning.

"No," she demanded. "As soon as the person from corporate arrives, we will no longer be able to hide behind our computer screens and monitors. Whoever arrives will see everything about her; every perfection and every flaw."

"They will know, just as we do, that you can only learn through trial and error," he treaded carefully, knowing that there was an illogical ring to his words. "She's not a robot, she hasn't been programmed, Lily. She doesn't have code, she has human traits. She wants nothing more than to be like you and I."

"That's the problem," her voice was but a whisper. "Hermione isn't like us, no matter how hard we try to deny the fact. She has no excuse to make an error, and that's how they will see it. In their eyes, she will be a failure just like the first."

Remus remained silent and tore his gaze away from his friend as she turned back into one of the monitors, going over the data for the upteenth time in the last hour. By tomorrow, their newest member of the team would be joining them. There was no point in trying to argue against the matter, nor was there any benefits of complaining. What's done was done and it was out of their power of control.

He sighed dejectedly, and turned towards the glass. However, surprise marred his features as he found Hermione's head up, her gaze staring right at them over the edge of her book. She knew that there would be another individual joining them tomorrow, he had told her hours before when they had first received the call. She had her worries, just like any normal person would, but she was also eager to see a new face. Apart from them, she had never once had any interaction with someone that was unfamiliar. He had no doubt in her. She would do just fine, more so than that.

Remus began to smile, the corner of his mouth stretching to greet her, however, her attention drifted back into the book and away from him.

He swallowed heavily. He wished that tomorrow would never come


	3. Chapter 3

He had never been on a plane before. Part of the reason was because he had never been assigned anywhere far and as for the other, well, it wasn't as if he took off on holidays. Even if he thought hard about it, he couldn't actually remember the last time he had ever taken a vacation. But it didn't matter anymore because he knew now that he would do everything in his power to prevent himself from getting on a plane ever again. The small space, the annoying flight attendant, the tons of people crammed elbow to elbow… it was one- if not the single most uncomfortable experiences he had ever gone through, all while being secluded inside a flying death contraption.

Thankfully it hadn't been too bad, as he had been fortunate to be one of the few individuals within first class but it hadn't made matters that much better, in his opinion. The thought of the people and the walls of the plane were enough to make his body itch in hyperventilation.

In the meantime, however, Draco had forced himself to keep his mind working. He felt utterly useless otherwise.

With the semi-silence that the first class compartment provided him with, he used the time to go over Hermione's files for a second, more thorough time. It was as if everytime he turned into the stack of paperwork, there was something new that he would find; something more that would outstand him and leave him blinking in disbelief. There was so much data, yet at the same time not nearly enough. Even with it all laid out before him, he couldn't help but feel lost. Here was this girl- statistically only five years of age but with the body of a young women- that was more intelligent and more evolved than any individual on the planet. Himself included.

In truth, it all confused him. Draco felt that he knew who she was but he also knew that that was impossible. He didn't know what she sounded like, he didn't know how she behaved or what she liked; all he had was her charts and tables and records that began even before she took her first breath.

Yet, there was no denying that he did know her. He knew what she looked like at a mere hour old, he knew when she lost her first tooth, when she played her first perfected piece of music, when she had successfully recited the biblical book of Genesis word for word by memorization, even when her body had shifted into womanhood. He knew it all. Her entire existence was in his hands; recorded and written down on page after page in the dozens of folders and captured within the pictures he held in his possession.

Draco glanced down at the picture in his hand. It was the most recent one. Since he had been given it, there had hardly been a moment that he put it down. He had stared at it for what had felt like hours, days even. He couldn't get over it- her. She looked too… human to be some genetic experiment.

'She looks perfect,' whispered a small voice in the back of his mind.

He clenched his jaw tightly and brought his hand up to his head, running his fingers roughly through his pale locks. There were emotions bubbling inside of him that he had never experienced before, tearing and clawing at his chest as they fought to escape. They wanted to be free but he wouldn't let them. He refused.

There was a fine line that he couldn't cross. He would be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to her. The girl was undeniably beautiful, stunning in every form and angle possible. But that was just it. Hermione wasn't a regular girl. She had been created and raised in a laboratory by doctors. Her genetics had been handpicked and altered to create the perfect specimen. She wasn't human, no matter how many times his gaze shifted to focus on her picture. She was just an experiment and he had a job to do.

oOoOoOoOoOo

When he stepped foot onto the company property he knew immediately that he liked it better than the city.

As he had driven to the private lot, he had only passed by two houses in a span of forty-five minutes. There was no one around. No neighbors, no passing cars, no blaring city lamps. It was secluded.

Then again, that was the purpose of this place. Seclusion. Hidden away from the public eye and allowing them to keep their secrets as the years drifted by. They could all scream at the top of their lungs and no one would hear. Not a single soul.

The area was naturalistic through and through, with tall trees stretching into the skies and mountains that cracked through the earth's surface in the distance, with a long, flowing river that appeared to flow on for miles on end.

It was the very definition of peaceful.

Draco had never been a lover of the outdoors, but here, he decided he had missed out on more than he realized. While he stayed tucked inside the four walls of his office, the rest of the world lived on. Nature had a tendency to show the more purer things in life simply because it was just that- life.

It was the cruelest taught. Here he was, young and healthy, yet life was the very thing he lacked. He had no family or friends, no loving female companion, not even a bloody pet to welcome him back into his room. All he had was himself; his intelligence above all else. Nothing more, nothing less.

And he was fine with that, no matter how much his body and soul ached otherwise.

He sighed heavily and turned away from his vehicle, closing the trunk as he pulled out his suitcase and hoisted the box of Hermione's files beneath his arm. With a quick glance, he saw that there were several vehicles stationed off to the side and frowned as he noted that grass had begun to grow between the gravel and the tires. It was obvious that none of them had been used in quite some time. Of course he had known that their groceries and household items were delivered by company trucks, but he had assumed they took to their own private weekends as they were allowed to do. Then again, they were all scientists, just like him. People like them didn't have the same 'fun' normal individuals experienced. They'd much rather enjoy a nice evening in their labs than rotting away at some theater or restaurant, surrounding themselves with the fools that society was bred from. They were encoded differently than the rest of the population. It's just how they were.

He glanced away and instead, turned his head up towards the house. It didn't look terrible - old, yes - but liveable enough. Actually, if he were to describe it in one word, it would be cozy. The wooden house was quite grand in size, with three floors and large stone pillars in the front that were connected by an archway that led to the main doors. A stone path led up to the staircase and as he began to walk, he allowed himself to inspect the yard.

There was a section that had overgrown grass, wildflowers sprinkled here and there, but what sparked his curiosity was the multiple bee boxes. Odd, but then he remembered a certain picture of a young Hermione peeking inside the boxes, her eyes full of curious delight as a few would fly out and flutter into the air. His brows furrowed as he gazed at those boxes. They were dull and dingy, not perspiring with the bees as they once had. He wondered what had changed.

Draco continued down the small path, leaving the boxes behind, but as he rounded the corner something else forced a break in his steps. His mercury gaze widened as he stared at the small building partially hidden between the towering trees. He knew what that was. To actually call it a building was a massive overstatement. It was nothing more than four gloomy cement walls that led to an underground facility. It just looked like it didn't belong there, a tarnish against the breathtaking scenery around them.

He would probably spend the majority of his time in that building. The house was just for them to sleep, shower and eat. He was to work in the other. That's where she was.

Draco's breath caught in his throat at the turn of his thoughts. He wondered what she was doing now…

"Dr. Malfoy."

Draco spun around immediately towards the direction the voice had called out and composed himself in the blink of an eye as he saw a man approaching. In less than a heartbeat, Draco looked the man up and down, taking in his shiny loafers to the dark hair combed neatly on top of his head, a pair of hazel eyes popping against the man's caramel skin. He didn't need any introduction to know who the man was. He had memorized the employment roster before he had left the corporation.

"Welcome-," Draco briefly eyed the hand the man offered before shaking it, "I hope your travels went smoothly?"

Draco nodded his head, dropping his hold on the stranger's hand. The contact had felt too foreign for his comfort.

"Good," came the man's reply. "My name is Blaise Zabini. If you'd like, I can show you to your room so that you can unpack."

Draco blinked. He could feel the slow spikes of his agitation dance along his spine, making its way steadily upwards until it tingled against the base of his skull. He was vaguely aware that Zabini was still talking to him, hearing his voice lull deeply together and vibrate against his eardrums like thick molasses. He knew Zabini was awaiting an answer. And even though every fiber of his being didn't want to converse, he knew it was expected of him.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, that would be great."

"I can help you with your luggage," Zabini said, leaning forward to retrieve the box Draco held but as the man advanced, Draco retreated. His hold tightened around the box beneath his arm and moved it from Zabini's fingers while instead, he pushed the handle of his suitcase forward, offering it for him to take.

Draco noticed instantly how the friendly grin upon Zabini's face tightened, the man's hazel gaze lingering on the box for a few seconds too long. A strong tension flittered between them as Draco waited, poised and ready for anything. Mr. Crouch had warned him about the possibility of the faculty's behavior turning sour towards him. It would have been naive of him to not expect it. Just as they didn't like him, he despised them just the same.

With a nod of his head, Zabini took his suitcase. "If you can follow me, please."

Wordlessly, Draco traced the man's footsteps with his own. Zabini continued to spit a half-arsed conversation but Draco paid no mind as they crossed the threshold of the house. He was too entranced in his new surroundings, his new home.

It was so different from what he was used to. Instead of all white walls and glaring fluorescent lights that burned against his retina's, the house he was in now was the opposite of that. The walls were dark in forest green, with black-brown furnishings that were scattered equally around the rooms. The entranceway merged into the living area, where there were multiple windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, allowing them to see the surrounding woods as if they were standing outside, beyond the confinements of the house. He wouldn't voice it outloud, but the house was more than he had expected.

The thing, however, that he had noticed immediately was that it was quiet. So very quiet that he could only hear his soft breaths leave his body and the taps of their shoes as their heels struck the wooden floors. In the next room over, the soft clicking of a clock hand was beating through the air like a tempo; a handful of birds were chirping in the trees, the leaves rusting in the breeze.

On the inside, he was smiling.

Silence.

It's all he had ever craved for; something that no matter hard he strived to get- burying his head beneath pillow after pillow, shoving ear buds into his ears and blasting classical music as high as it could go, pressing his palms so hard against his ears that he feared one day he would crack his skull- the sounds of everything else always bursted through. Yet here, in a house hidden in the forest, he was finding his peace.

He could only wonder just how long that would last.

Wordlessly, Blaise led him up the first flight of stairs, and showed him to his room. Upon entrance, he noted that just as the bottom floor, his 'bedroom' was equally dark in nature. It made him want to sleep. Draco circled around the room quietly, still with the box beneath his arm and opened each of the two doors. One - thankfully - revealed that he had his own bathroom and the other was simply a closet. He darted a glance at the door to his bedroom and mentally gave thanks that there was a lock on it. It wouldn't do if there hadn't been one there. The idea of anyone walking in at any bloody time they chose set his nerves on end.

As he shut the door of his closet, he focused his attention onto the bed. He was used to white- blinding white - but in this room his sheets were dark green, pillows an offset of heather grey. Before he could stop himself, his hand was reaching out and fingering the fabric between the pads of his digits.

It was soft.

He assumed it would be much more easier to fall asleep here than-

"I hope you do not mind," Blaise's voice brought him out of his reverie, "- but Dr. Lupin and Dr. Evans have asked that you meet with Hermione tomorrow morning."

Grey eyes snapped up. "Why?" he could hear the bite behind his voice.

Blaise shuffled his feet, but didn't miss a beat. "Hermione's activity schedule is full this evening... and you of all people should know how important it is that she stay on track."

His eyes narrowed at the man before him. For Blaise to assume anything about him or his thoughts made him want to bark out a laugh and storm down into the laboratory doing whatever he fucking pleased. Schedule be damned. The part that was the most amusing was that if he truly wanted to, he could. And the more he thought about it, the more appealing that option seemed.

But he didn't want to create a rift a mere half hour into his arrival. Even though he may not give a bloody damn about these people, he didn't want to deal with the impending drama that would unfold if he were to start forcing his superiority down their throats. For the time being, he would need to bite his tongue.

He tightened his grip around the box in his arm. "Of course," he answered. "Tomorrow."

With a farewell and tight nod of dismissal, Blaise turned around and shut the door behind him.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione's eyes snapped up towards the ceiling at the sound of a vehicle door closing, dismissing everything else from her attention as her concentrated stare bore into the cemented panels above. Her head tilted back, lips parting open by a fraction of an inch. With her movement, she could feel the fabric of her jacket brush against her skin, her soft curls fanning around her face and neck. She held her breath, forcing all of her focus on the earth above.

He had finally arrived.

She listened as the gravel shifted beneath his feet with each step he took.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch

She heard him walk around his car, popping the trunk open and then-

A hand grazed gently against her cheek, fingers brushing through her hair to grip the back of her skull. With a tender pull, her head was enforced head back into facing forward, forcing her eyes to lock onto emerald green.

"Hermione," the deep baritone of Harry's voice rang into the air, vibrating throughout her body at their close proximity. "When I am speaking to you, you mustn't look away. You know that."

She watched as his lips moved, watching as they curled and flattened with each syllable and word he spoke; his tongue pushing against the back of his teeth before retreating then doing again. She watched as he swallowed, the faint flutter of muscles that shifted along the pale expanse of his neck that reminded her of the ripples that would break across the water's surface when she blew into it.

"Much better," Harry gave her a soft, affectionate smile. The fingers that gripped her skull let go, and moved to curve against her cheek. His skin was warm, such a contrast against her very own, and the longer his hand melted into her flesh, the longer his warmth scorched her.

Hermione blinked and like a switch, gone was that far-away look that Harry always reprimanded her of. She returned Harry's smile with ease and it was only then that his hand fell from her face.

He picked up his conversation as if they hadn't stopped, and held eye contact with her as he spoke each and every word. She nodded when she was supposed to, smiled when he wanted her to, and responded when she needed to.

At the same time, however, Hermione continued to listen to every step Dr. Draco Malfoy took. He wasn't alone anymore, Blaise was speaking with him. The low murmur of their voices drifted pleasantly through her ear drums. She recognized Blaise's slight italian enunciations, but with Dr. Malfoy, his accent was sharp and crisp.

Her smile lost it's forced edge.

She reckoned she quite liked the way the new doctor sounded.

With each second that passed, Harry's voice drifted into the distance as Draco got closer.

Closer, closer, closer

Her toes curled in anticipation.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Draco inspected himself closely in the mirror as he dried off. Water was dripping from the fine ends of his hair, some droplets gliding down his pale skin until they disappeared beneath the white fabric of the towel loosely draped around his waist. He paid the liquid no attention, as instead, his silver orbs stared at the mirror unblinkingly, raking over his reflection without mercy.

His body had been something he had memorized long ago. There was no blemish or scar in sight. He had no freckles from time well spent in the sun, nor any remnant sunburn that tanned his cheeks. All he had was smooth, perfected skin.

Draco's gaze focused on his face, getting so close to the mirror that his nose was a hair's width away from bopping against the reflected surface. He ran his hand across his jaw. The bone structure had always been strong and sharp. He had never had to shave either. Stubble on his face was something he had never seen.

His hand continued upwards. His fingers skimmed against the bridge of his nose, pressed against the skin beneath his eyes, and ran smoothly against his forehead. Always the same.

He only pulled away when he was satisfied that there was nothing different. He had never considered himself to be vain but he had always known he was handsome. Good looks and a body that had a fine collection of muscles was bound to put an individual in society's higher standards. He had always been thin and angular in many aspects, but that didn't mean he was scrawny or weak. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he had a perfect ratio of muscle for his body weight and every fitness exam he had taken, he had always exceeded the norm.

He flexed, watching as the muscles in his arms tightened and the veins that would bulge slightly at the increase of blood pressure. He let his gaze drop towards his stomach and the taunt abdomen he possessed, continuing on to the enticing pelvic muscle he had read supposedly drives women crazy. Not that he would know. There was no woman alive that he had ever allowed to see him in his naked glory, let alone lay a single finger upon him.

At his turn of thoughts, he dropped his towel.

Draco's gaze zeroed onto the throbbing flesh between his thighs. At times it almost felt foreign. He had never felt sexually attracted towards a woman before but he would be lying if he denied ever feeling the intoxicating pleasures of arousal. It was just that no one was good enough for him.

However, even with the absence of a lover, he still had to cave into his primitive urges. It was simple science no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

Even with being a virgin, with no type of experience by any account, he knew how to pleasure himself. Hell, he even knew how to pleasure a woman with a nod of thanks to the multiple medical textbooks he had thumbed through which happened to all revolve around how to give a woman a proper, mindblowing orgasm. In truth, he couldn't wait until the day he had met that special someone. Sex was something he had always considered to be intimate in every form. It was something that he only wanted to experience with someone that mattered… someone that would mean the absolute world to him, someone that he would give the entire world to.

Sighing to himself, he decided to get ready for bed. He didn't want to eat dinner tonight mostly because he was in no bloody mood to deal with any of the faculty. Well, that's entirely why he wasn't going down.

Besides, the faster he went to sleep, the faster tomorrow would arrive. And that meant the sooner it would be until he met the very girl that had plagued his thoughts since he first learned of her existence.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Sleep hadn't been kind to him. He had spent hours tossing and turning against the foreign fabrics that brushed against his skin, the pillows that were too soft beneath his head. It had been too much to get use to in such a small period of time. He had never been one to easily adapt to his surroundings but he supposed from here on out, he would not be given a choice. It's what would be expected of him. It's what he was supposed to do. His protocol.

He swallowed thickly at that as images from Hermione's files splayed across his eyes. She had been there, in his dreams. She had been the one that kept him anxiously fidgeting away in his slumber, her dark eyes focused on him and him alone. They had been heavy and had haunted him from the moment he had closed his eyes as the neurowaves shot across the lobes of his brain. If he wanted to, he could recite every word she had spoken and every move that she had made. It's how fresh the dreams had been; how vivid.

Draco straightened himself up and blinked at the wooden frame of his bedroom door. The sun had risen hours before and he knew that the other members of the faculty would be awakening at any moment and gathering downstairs for breakfast. The thought of meeting the others wasn't something that he was looking forward to but he knew it was inevitable. It wasn't as if he could sneak around and not be seen by any them. The place wasn't that big. Then again, if he really wanted to then he could-

"Don't be stupid," he hissed to himself. He was here to do his assignment and that involved interacting with the other doctors and staff appointed. He couldn't bloody ignore them. It was too juvenile of a thing to do.

Without taking another moment of hesitation, he reached forward and grasped the doorknob, turning it and pulling open his door. He was quick to make his way down the hall, not giving any of the paintings and pictures a second of his attention, and made his way down the stairs. He took them two at a time and glanced around once both of his feet were planted firmly on the ground floor. Empty. Not a soul in sight. Just the way he liked.

Then again, the faster he met one of the doctors, the faster he would meet Hermione. He had been informed that before he was allowed to meet her, he would need to be eased into the equation to prevent her from being thrown off guard. By what, he didn't know. Did they really think he would barge in and scream and fight against her? He wasn't cruel and he would be lying if he said he didn't take offense to their accusations even if they weren't spoken aloud. But if that's what they thought, then he wouldn't bother to correct them. Afterall, he wasn't here for them.

Draco bypassed the dining room, briefly eyeing the plates and silverware that were set out, and continued on towards the kitchen. He had only intended on getting something to drink but the moment his foot stepped through the threshold, he froze.

He wasn't as alone as he thought. Standing before him- bright blue eyes wide- was a redheaded male, a spatula clasped in his freckled hand and held midair.

Draco could only stare as he remained lingering in the archway.

"Morning," the ginger drawled out, his eyes flickering back down onto the skillet sizzling on the stove top in front of him. "You must be the new doctor?"

It took him only a second to understand the man was actually speaking to him. He pushed himself forward as he cleared his throat, "Yes." He figured that was a good enough response.

"Hope you like mushrooms in your omelet," the redhead glanced up at him before refocusing on the pan. "They didn't give me any papers of what your preferences are so… hope you aren't allergic," he said with a laugh.

Draco's brows furrowed slightly. "You cook for everyone? I wasn't informed of a chef. Certainly your position should be mentioned in the briefing."

"Uh… well I suppose they only listed the doctors? I don't do anything besides cook the food. It's what they pay me to do," the redhead grinned. Draco watched the man closely as he dropped the spatula onto the countertop and cleaned his hands on a loose towel before extending it towards him. Draco's attention snapped to the motion.

"The name's Ron Weasley."

He had never been one for physical contact, especially with strangers nonetheless, but the man- Ron- didn't seem too terrible; carefree and a bit slobbish, yes, but friendly enough that it wouldn't be a chore to deal with him. And in truth, Ron Weasley was an alien before him. The air around him was so relaxed compared to the other people Draco dealt with that it nearly made him want to try it just for himself, as impossible as that seemed. To be free of expectations and protocols and reports to have the sole duty of preparing omelettes… the idea was otherworldly, out of bounds for him.

But he said nothing and kept his face blank as he grasped Ron's hand. It was too warm and too sweaty for his comfort, however, he kept his manners in check perfectly.

"Draco Malfoy," he provided, dropping Ron's hand just as fast as he had taken it. He was quick to divert his attention onto the numerous cabinets that lined the kitchen walls; absentmindedly taking in the cleanliness of it all, which was quite surprising considering Ron's wolfish appearance. Then again, for all he knew, someone else could have been in charge of tidying up. He pretended to be occupied by counting each of the handles on the drawers.

"Sooo," Ron drawled out, " since you know that I'm the chef, and I know that you're a doctor, do you mind telling me what kind you are?"

Draco's mercury gaze flickered towards the redhead. What was it with the human curiosity? It was a sickly little thing, always prying into others business. It never failed. Questions were always asked, observations were always made. It was such a tiring process.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, mentally tossing the words around within his skull before he said them, "I'm here to evaluate the test subject."

He watched carefully as Ron scrunched his brows together in confusion. The omelets were momentarily forgotten.

"I thought that's what Dr. Evans and Dr. Lupin were here for?"

The question was justifiable on Ron's behalf, Draco would admit. The only problem was that he wasn't entirely sure what he could or could not say. He didn't want to just blurt out that Dr. Evans and Dr. Lupin were believed to be inept at continuing the research because he was fairly certain that it would cross some bullshite moral line and as much as he would usually not give a damn, he didn't want to stir up trouble so quickly. Not yet at least.

With a mere shrug of his shoulders, he fibbed, "I don't ask questions. I just do as I'm told."

Ron nodded his head, accepting his reply easily and started to dice a variety of vegetables. "Will you be joining the others for breakfast?"

He hid his frown. There was no way avoiding them forever. Draco exhaled evenly, and said, "I suppose it would be best if I did. Get all of the introductions out of them way."

"Well I'm about to serve-"

"Who all eats here?" he interrupted. He hadn't failed to notice the ten plates that were lined across the counter. He forced himself to ignore the way his heart was suddenly pounding in his chest.

"We all do," Ron provided as he began to fill the plates. "Apart from Harry. He usually eats in the lab."

"Harry Potter," Draco clarified. As Ron nodded his head, Draco did the same, before turning away and rolling his eyes. He had read about Potter's role here. The nurturer. The mere word left a funny taste in his mouth and did even worse things to his insides as he imagined how close it had brought Potter and Hermione together throughout the short years of her life. When he had gone through her pictures, the dark haired man had been glued to her side like her own personal shadow.

He swallowed thickly, suddenly remembering he had come into this room for a glass of water. "He eats with the test subject alone?"

Ron took a deep breath before bringing his bright blue eyes to settle on Draco. He tilted his head of red hair to the side in contemplation as his face scrunched. "They're fairly… close to each other," he slowly began. "The others don't find it weird or anything, it's just that…"

"You do." Draco finished for him.

It took everything in his power not to snarl at the ginger. Only someone ignorant wouldn't understand the magnitude of what Hermione was. What Ron found as weird was a scientific masterpiece. The existence of Hermione was something that a chef would never understand, let alone begin to comprehend.

Draco's fingernails dug into the bed of his palms as he stared. "Tell me, have you actually met and interacted with her?"

Ron snorted. The undignified noise was only further proof that Ron wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the kitchen. "Yeah, I have," Ron grinned. "Only a few times though. It's usually if I'm taking food down to the lab. There was one time that they asked me to go down there with ingredients to make a few meals. At first I was supposed to instruct her how to cook but somehow, she ended up teaching me," he laughed out. "She had been little then, barely reaching the counter top because she had to stand on a footstool. Can you imaging? A child? Teaching me how to cook?"

Yes, Draco could. After all, that was the purpose of a genetically engineered human; to be better at everyday life that the rest of humanity could only dream of accomplishing and yet still failing to do so. He wished he had been there to see such a thing happen.

"You said Harry takes food down to her. Does that mean she doesn't come into the house?"

Ron shook his head. "No, not anymore. When she was younger she would be brought in here on occasion but from what I understand, she isn't supposed to anymore. I've only seen her leave the lab maybe once per month, and it's usually for her to learn something new. It sounds depressing, but really, that's all she knows."

Draco slowly nodded his head in agreement. It was depressing. Her files hadn't depicted her isolation to that extent. But really, Ron was right. All Hermione knew were the people on this small plot of land and hadn't the slightest clue of what was beyond the metal gates. Everything she had ever been in contact with had been spoon fed to her; what to think, feel, and say.

A strong, unmistakable ache vibrated through his chest. He frowned, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to understand but suddenly, his ears perked up as footsteps began to echo into the room. He held his breath as he listened to them come closer and closer.

Then, as if on cue, a man glided into the room. Draco's attention snapped to the intruder, remaining stoic as the man's green stare widened. Potter was roughly around the same age as him, and on top of his head was a pile of messy, jet black hair.

"Oh- you must be Dr. Malfoy," Harry said, but made no movement on sticking his hand out like everyone else had done so far. Draco could hear the sourness to his words even as Potter kept his head down, refusing to fully acknowledge him. Draco knew when a person wasn't wanted, since he never wanted anyone around, and Harry definitely didn't want him around. One could only wonder why.

Draco watched Harry move around the kitchen almost expertisley, turning sharply around the counter corners and reaching for everything without actually looking. It was like clockwork as Harry reached into one of the cabinets and produced two glasses, before placing them flat onto the counter and walking to the fridge. He grabbed two seperate pitchers and wordlessly filled both of the glasses up to the top, then thrusted a thermometer into the one on the right. With the drinks settled, Harry turned his attention to examine the plates of food that Ron pushed forward.

Harry regarded the meal with scrutiny. "Did you make sure to use the organic eggs?"

"Yes," Ron replied without stopping to look up from putting the plates on a tray.

"Did you use a fork instead of a whisk?"

"Yes."

Harry made a small hum of approvement, then turned back to read the thermometer. "When was this milk delivered?"

"Yesterday evening."

"Did it sit out for more than five minutes?"

"No."

Harry took out the thermometer, and grabbed the two glasses. "She's been hoping to have an omelette for breakfast for the past few days now. I'm sure this will make her happy," Harry said with a smile directed towards Ron, then he left with the tray without saying anything more.

There was a moment of silence at Harry's departure as Draco stared at the entrance. He was going to be a problem, Draco knew.

When it was obvious that no one else would be waltzing into the kitchen, Draco turned back towards Ron. "What is the difference between using a fork versus a whisk?" he asked, trying and failing to understand the importance.

Ron smiled lopsidedly, "Harry says using a fork is better because when I use a whisk there are too many air bubbles."

What? Draco had never heard of a more ridiculous thing in his entire life. He raised an eyebrow, "Is he a former chef?"

Ron laughed. "The best attempt I have ever seen Harry cook was when he made burnt toast."

"Then why is he telling you how to do your job?"

"I just do what he says so that he can shut up," Ron joked. "He can be a persistent little bugger until you do what he says."

Draco silently nodded his head. I'd like him to try me, he thought to himself.

Now that put a smile on his face. It wasn't his fault that Ron mistook the reason why.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

"Dr. Malfoy, I'm so glad you decided to join us," Dr. Lupin said as Draco entered the room.

He paused at suddenly being the center of attention but he recovered without any of them noticing, offering them a tight lipped nod before quickly sitting in one of the empty chairs. The one he chose was at the head of the table, the farthest one from the other occupants.

There was a total of seven people at the table, including himself. The pristine dishes that he had watched Ron prepare were all in various stages of being eaten by the other individuals in the room- all of which he knew by name. Ron was to his left, Dr. Lupin next and then Dr. Bella Lestrange; on his right was another empty chair, followed by Blaise then Dr. Hannah Abbott and lastly, Dr. Neville Longbottom. They were all older than him, with perhaps, Blaise as an exception and it didn't take long until he was listening as they droned on, providing small biographies of themselves as if he truly cared. He silently sipped from his cup as they took turns, making small comments of admiration when needed. But he really couldn't give a fuck. All they spoke were words, venturing in one ear and out the other.

That was, until they began speaking of her. It had been like a flip switched within his mind, going from barely listening to suddenly lapping up their every word. It was remarkable how they spoke of her, how they had genuine smiles on their faces, their eyes lost in fond memories as they each described a past event. It didn't take him long to realize that the people around him revolved around the girl. They were centered around her as if she were the sun and they were each a celestial body that rotated around her every beckon call. It was fascinating to him. He had never witnessed such care before, never received it either. Perhaps that was why he sat at the edge of his chair as each member shared something new. His brain absorbed every last detail.

But, with a force that nagged at him from the inside, he remembered that he was here to do a job. Hermione wasn't complete yet, no matter how much the doctors spoke of her. They saw her as complete. To them, number three was already perfect. They didn't want him here because none of them felt that he was needed. It was a vast contrast compared to how they spoke so vividly of Hermione.

He'd have to show them then. He was the one in charge now.

Draco pushed his plate forward, signaling he was done and sat up, "I would like for you to show me what you've produced," he turned his head towards the greying man. "I want to see the test subject in the next few hours and I take that it will not be a problem, correct Dr. Lupin?"

He felt the stares of everyone at the table, until they drifted down to Dr. Lupin. Eyes all wide in disbelief yet he ignored them all. There was a tension in the air that felt clammy against his skin. He sat there and stared Dr. Lupin down, daring him or anyone else to tell him otherwise.

If he had to shove his authority down their throats, then it is what had to be done.

"Of course that won't be a problem" Dr. Lupin replied with a forced smile. Draco was much too accustomed to those. "I can take you down to my office right now, if you wish."

Draco inclined his head and grinned in return. "That would be excellent."

He stood up without a moment's hesitation and followed after Dr. Lupin as he did the same. Before he was out of earshot, however, a female voice had him looking over his shoulder.

"Weasley it appears you're going to have to brush up on your cooking," Bella Lestrange said with a laugh. "Poor lad didn't take a single bite."

Draco didn't bother to acknowledge her.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

The sunlight was warm on his skin as he started to climb up the cement steps, the soft sounds of the pads of his shoes tapping methodically against the grey stone. His were darting in every which way as he found interest in his surroundings. There was just too much around him to not take notice- the sounds, sights, smells. It was all so new, adding even more to his ever growing list of things he would have to get accustomed to. Life here wouldn't be the same as life at the corporation.

But his mind was focused on far more important matters.

He had been given an access badge, which was quite useless since everyone had one, and he momentarily wondered if the badge was meant to keep others out, or to keep her in. It worked either way.

The building underneath the ground was much bigger than he had expected. It may have been due to the fact that the walls were all made of glass, giant panels that ran from the ceilings to the cold, granite floors. There were numerous doors that lead to different offices and workspaces but it was all his eyes could see.

Draco could not see her though. He guessed her room was further into the building, past the only solid walls that there was. He found his gaze eagerly seeking her out only to be disappointed when Dr. Lupin held his arm out, beckoning them into his office.

Draco shot one last look towards the metallic walls before he walked into the small office. He sat down instantly and scowled as Dr. Lupin took his time. He could feel his nerves fraying against his spine as he watched Dr. Lupin slowly descend into his chair, the thin strands of his patients threatening to snap.

"Please make yourself comfortable," Dr. Lupin gestured to a chair that was settled near the desk. Draco stayed silent as the man began to click through his computer, and barely refrained from shifting uncomfortably in the leather chair. It felt as if no one had ever sat in the seat before.

The silence, however, was something Draco welcomed apart from the faint clicking of Dr. Lupin's desktop mouse. As the older man busied himself, Draco took the moment to scan the desk of any personal possessions. Somehow that's what society did, it's what was normal, which had never made much sense to him. Why have items that's sole purpose was to distract from work while at work? Even Crouch did it and from the quick glance of Dr. Lupin's desk, so did he.

Beside the computer screen there was a picture of the doctor holding a newborn baby. By the pale shade of the infant's skin and the soft tuft of brown hair, he knew that it was Hermione. Next to that picture was another, with a child-like Hermione that was smiling brightly despite missing one of her front teeth. In the last frame, she wasn't so young anymore. She was an adolescent in her early teen years. The picture had been taken outside of a large glass room where she and Lupin were sitting at a metal table. He was pointing at something in a book that was laid out in front of her, and he could see the look of pure concentration on her face as she listened to whatever it was that Lupin was saying.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from pictures; couldn't blink.

That is, until Dr. Lupin began to rotate his computer screen towards him. He had no choice but to force his attention on the screen as the doctor pulled up numerous video clips. He sat up straighter.

"The creation of synthetic DNA was relatively the simple half of the equation," Lupin explained while playing a clip that showed various substances being laced into a serum, before injecting the formulated strands into the DNA.

Draco blinked at the screen in front of him, silently glancing back at the doctor. It was elementary science- the easy stuff. He forced himself to not take it as an insult that Lupin thought he needed to explain the procedures. Draco knew all about how they had to trick the subjects neural network into accepting the nano into its rank and enlighten in its midst. He knew they had to introduce the incubation period as the nano began to introduce its own language and commands, resulting in the accelerated growth rate as the serum began to produce its own stimuli, pumping into the bloodstream of a fetal Hermione.

The doctor was wasting his time.

Draco clenched his jaw. "Yes," he spoke. "I have read over the materials."

Lupin nodded his head and returned back to the monitor. The video clips then switched to a collection of a newborn baby, pale as a sheet, but crying and kicking into the air. Her wails vibrated the insides of his ears.

"Of course," Lupin said. "Well as you know, Hermione was our third attempt. The first two…" the older man frowned as he skipped through footage of their experimentations. Draco could make out silver scalpels gleaming underneath fluorescent lights just as it tethered towards the newborns flesh. "... hadn't gone as we had intended. But with Hermione-," the screen was suddenly projecting the girl once more, "-we finally had our breakthrough. We knew right away that she was special; incredibly alert and responsive."

Soft giggles filled the air, spilling from the computer speakers. Draco could see a toddler aged little girl sitting by herself on a large bed that looked like it threatened to swallow her up. There was a thick book in her hand and his lips parted with how fast he could see her gaze shooting across the pages, her small fingers flipping the pages after mere seconds. If Lupin saw his expression, he didn't bother addressing it and continued on, "Within a month she was walking and talking. Day by day her intelligence grew steadily, with advanced comprehension and complex advancement. It- she- exceeded our wildest expectations. She was exactly what we had intended- a hybrid, biological organism."

Draco's gaze shot towards the man. He could hear the hesitation in his voice. It was unmistakable; a tell tale sign that everything was not laughter and smiles here. Behind closed doors he could only wonder what took place.

He leaned back into the chair, his mercury eyes never leaving Lupin's face. He was done being played a fool. "Why haven't you reported to Crouch in three weeks? You know the protocol. Why risk her," he nodded towards the computer screen, "if everything is as… exceptional as you claim?"

It seemed as if time had slowed, as if all the air in the room was suddenly sucked out before being shoved back in, and forcing them to breathe in poisonous fumes. Draco, however, ignored the change. He had expected it.

Dr. Lupin frowned. The downturn of his lips cut deeply across his face. It only solidified Draco's thoughts.

"She surpassed us." The phrase was short, a mere three words, but Draco could feel the magnitude of it. He stayed quiet as the words echoed throughout the room. "The rate at which she learned was something we hadn't foreseen. At times we didn't know what to give her next. Everything she has ever been exposed to has been hand selected, with purpose and reason."

"You must understand, Dr. Malfoy," Lupin's gaze bore into his own. The emotion swimming behind his brown orbs made Draco's insides coil in anxiety. "We have always wanted the best for her. Always. And in these short years, people from corporation- people like you- may not understand why we have done the things we have-"

"Don't presume to know anything about me," Draco sneered. "Not with something like this. This is beyond you and I, and you will tell me, now, what you people have done. If you have done anything that has violated protocol, Crouch will have no choice but to get involved."

"Protocol?" Dr. Lupin scoffed in disbelief. "What part do you not understand?" Lupin took a glance towards his door before leaning closer, bringing his voice down to a feverish whisper, "We were not prepared. There was no protocol; still is no protocol. The chances of Hermione actually surviving had been slim. A mere two percent. As much as it pains me to admit, we had never planned on a successful trial. We thought we would pave the way for future research but when she actually did thrive and live, we weren't going to stand idle. She is our miracle. She may not be perfect but she-"

"Why not?" his mouth was moving before he was aware of his tongue forming the sounds against his teeth.

The truth had already been said and there was no going back now. The admission hung lifelessly in the air.

His mind was scrambling to adjust. He had just begun to understanding Hermione's existence but now it was slowly starting to crumble around him. Picture after picture of the ones he had tucked away in his room were flashing through his vision, and one by one they were being peeled away, stripping Hermione's perfection and showing the flaws that couldn't be seen with the naked eye.

But her flaws only enhanced her illuminated image in his mind. It made him see the more human side of her… the side more like him.

Lupin swallowed uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact. "We have never given her anything to cause internal conflict. We felt that it was best to… the view was, and always has been straightforward. We felt that giving her the choice to choose would have been tricky for her mind to comprehend and would only confuse her mental abilities."

Draco's gaze shot to the middle aged man. "What about her mental abilities?" he pushed. If Hermione could learn, then there should be nothing wrong with giving her objective material. There should be nothing wrong with giving her the ability to think and decide for herself.

One wasn't truly human if they didn't have a thought process of their own.

Dr. Lupin frowned and turned back to his computer monitor. This time it was of Hermione curled up in a corner, shaking back and forth with her knees pressed into her chest. Draco felt concern poor through him. He couldn't tear his gaze away as she clutched at the sides of her head. He could feel his breath rapidly increasing as he sat there in the chair. The short video pained him to watch.

The date at the bottom of the corner read only two weeks ago.

"We had given her a philosophical piece called Euthyphro by Plato and we had meant for it to be a learning experience but instead… instead we caused a meltdown- the very first she had ever experienced. Since then, we haven't tried again."

The longer he listened to Lupin, the faster he could feel his fury threaten to take over. The doctor hadn't hesitated to begin to list Hermione's imperfections yet he didn't bother to admit his own failures. The whole bloody staff's failures.

Draco craned his neck as the muscles began to tighten. "This was never reported, why?"

Lupin downcasted his gaze. "You are no fool, Dr. Malfoy. You know why."

Indeed, he did.

The termination. He had been quick to skim through that particular folder when he had read through the procedures, wanting nothing to do with it. Like with anything, there was a protocol for failure. The problem, however, was that Hermione was no machine. A damn plug couldn't be pulled. If that were to ever happen, Hermione would be euthanized by a lethal injection as if she were some fucking animal and not the marvel that she was. The dosage would coarse through her veins like fire until it eventually killed her from the inside out. Her death would not be merciful.

He didn't want to dwell. Those thoughts sent a horrid pang throughout the frame of his body. Draco took a deep breath and moved on.

"Does she know about my arrival?" he questioned.

It seemed that Lupin appreciated the change of subject just as much as he did. He nodded his head, a smile playing at his thin lips, "Yes, and she's very… excited to see a new face."

He forced himself not to show his surprise. He masked it carefully but he could feel the subtle twitches his face made as he fought the emotions. So many things were shooting through him at once- disbelief, elation, and nerves… so many nerves. Draco could not help it. Could she, the greatest mind to ever exist, actually be enthralled to meet him? He didn't know if there was a time when anyone had ever been excited to see him, let alone smile at his arrival and actually mean it.

His brow twitched at the thought. Would she smile at him? Or scowl like the others and hide behind their facades? Would he smile back? Such an act was not common for him but he was soon to be walking into unfamiliar territory with a mind brighter and more complex than his own.

"It is safe to say that her behavior with you will be unexpected at most," Dr. Lupin continued, unaware of the emotional indecisiveness battling within the younger male in the room. "While I am sure you are aware that other individuals within the facility may not… entirely approve of your presence, we all understand what you are here to do, Dr. Malfoy."

Draco inclined his head in silence. He had no words to say. Their conversation was coming to an end and it was time for the most important greeting to take place. All of the others had been a lackluster pull of his attention and now it was time for the one he craved to see and hear.

His heart began to pound violently in his chest as Dr. Lupin stood from his chair. He could feel his pulse beat against his skin from the very tips of his toes to the temples at the side of his head.

Lupin opened the door with a renewed spring in his step, nodding his head towards the empty hall. "Well," he grinned, "let's go see Hermione, shall we?"

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Multiple rooms over, Hermione tightened her fingers around the fork in her hand and shifted her head to stare over Harry's plaid-covered shoulder. Her eyes were honed on the door that she couldn't see through. It's metallic surface giving none of its secrets away.

Harry was still talking, his usual pleasant tones as comforting as always, but she couldn't bring herself to care for the words leaving his mouth. They were dull, uneventful, and the footsteps approaching were banging loudly throughout her head, beating across her body like the rhythm of her heartbeat and demanding her full attention. She listened carefully as the steps got closer. She could hear his voice, so new and refreshing, accent crisp compared to those she had been surrounded by her entire life; and his steps were refined and regal, each taken with purpose and demand. Everything about him was pulling her in, leaving Harry as a fuzzy blur that went unregistered to her gaze.

He was so close now.

The distinct chirp of the security panel unlocking had her knees pressing together. Watching the handle of the door begin to move made her lips part.

Harry was still talking. But she could not hear the words.

When the door opened, she finally saw him. She suddenly found herself drowning in a pool filled with liquid mercury, engulfing her body with its silver fluid until she sank to the bottom and became part of it.

She heard the sharp intake of his breath as his gaze continued to bore into her own even as Harry spun around in his chair. Neither of them spoke for several seconds and it was as if time itself had slowed down and morphed into thick amber, trapping them.

Hermione tilted her head to the side as she inspected him, allowing her honey colored hair flowing past her shoulders. He was... different than the others. His pale skin was equal to her own, with blonde hair that nearly shone white beneath the lights, only serving to brighten the storm that brewed behind his orbitals.

She recognized those eyes. They were hers but in a different color, holding his intellect and silently showing the world.

Oh how he was different.

Slowly, Hermione raised the side of her lips and smiled at him.

She had yet to hear him take another breath.


	5. Chapter 5

2 years ago…

Her back was pressed tightly against Harry's chest and with each breath he took, she could feel her body move- forward, back, forward, back, forward and back; a rhythmic pattern that she was used to. His shoulders were curved in as his arms overlapped her own, encasing her in his cage with her head nestled just above his sternum. She was sitting between his legs on the pale pink sheets of her bedding with a book held in front of her that was clasped in his large hands. His head was lowered beside her ear and with each word he spoke, she could feel his breath fan against the spanse of her cheek.

Her eyes moved rapidly across the pages, bypassing the words Harry read aloud. She was so consumed- too consumed- with the words she processed. The book Harry had brought was something she had never seen before, with a sinister cover that was tantalizing to look at. It had sharp spears glistening in the heat, with vermillion fluids that dripped down from the pointed blade and onto the beaten floor. Soldiers were lined up in parallel rows, all adorned with golden armor from head to toe; some chest plates were dented, some shields were broken and tattered… bodies were scattered lifelessly on the floor.

Her gaze lingered on those that had their faces buried into the dirt. The red puddles were everywhere, underneath the bodies and running through the divets of dirt like a rich river. And yet the battle still forged on, strong and steady with casualties steadily increasing. The longer Harry read, more and more bodies hit the ground with each blow.

The Trojan War was ruthless but her eyes were hungry and she read faster and faster and faster.

"No man will hurl me down to Death, against my fate" Harry read, his voice deep and vibrating against her spine. He was a strong and powerful prince by the name of Hector, the eldest son of the Trojan king and chief warrior of the army.

"And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it, neither brave man nor coward. I tell you- it's born with us the day that we are born."

The swords were still flying, blood still splattered even against the prince's words.

It didn't take long until tragedy struck deep. With a cruel twist of fate, Hector was brought down by the great warrior Achilles. Two stabs to the chest had him falling to his knees, with his brother and wife desperately looking on, their hands trembling as the blade slid through Hector's weakened armor. It was too easy for Achilles. The man was otherworldly compared to them. Hector hadn't stood a chance.

The princes death was no halt of hostilities between the two nations. There was a prize to be won.

"Nothing is more miserable than man when all hope is diminished," Harry continued to read, "Any moment might be our last."

Hermione clutched at Harry's kneecaps. His arms tightened around her childish body, shifting from resting against her forearms to engulfing her, his elbows nearly touching as he circled her waist. He kept her safe against the men with swords and arrows. It's what he had told her.

In the end, Death went for everyone with his limbs stretched out and mouth ready to suck the poor souls from every fallen soldier that now belonged to him. Those that survived were lucky.

The end had come with dread and despair.

Troy- one of the greatest cities to have ever existed- fell and crumbled into stone with nothing more than a giant metal horse on their grounds. She frowned at how all of their glory and their greatness could be whipped out in mere days. Their empire burnt to a crisp with nothing left except ash.

And for what? What could be more important than letting an entire nation thrive and prosper? Life was one of the world's greatest delicacies, the most important one of them all. She had learned that. She was life. It was to be held with a gentleness like none other.

She couldn't understand how war and bloodshed had been so easy for them when they were supposed to treat others with care and compassion and love. Love.

It's what had started it all.

Hector's brother, Paris, had been the cause of the war. He had fallen in love with the King of Spartan's wife and had kidnapped her, bringing her to the city of Troy. Love had broughten war. Love had brought the soldiers with their spears and their cruelties. Love had brought Death and wounds and fatality.

Could such a thing be worth so much? Her young mind desperately tried to grasp at the idea but she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't envision it- any of it.

Harry's words from the beginning of the novel echoed through her skull, "...There is the heat of love, the pulsing rush of longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible- magic to make the sanest man go mad..."

Love must be the most powerful force to exist, she figured. If it brought empires and princes and great warriors down onto their knees, what could it do now?

Harry turned the last page and with it, gently clasped the book shut. He tossed it aside without a word and pulled her up onto his thigh in a single motion. One armed wrapped against the length of her body and slid onto her knee while the other pulled her against him so that she was cradled against his chest. She could feel the heat of his lips as they brushed atop of her head over and over again before settling onto her forehead.

She heard him inhale deeply just as he pulled away, that familiar smile on his face as he looked down at her. "It was good, right? I'm sure it'll be one of your favorites now."

The hand that had pulled her close traveled up her neck and gently eased her head towards his clavicle. The fabric of his shirt was thin and she could hear the steady beat of his heart just as easily as she could hear the heavy raindrops fall against the earth's surface and the rapid typing of Dr. Evans in the next room over.

Harry's question replayed. Again. And again, and again yet she couldn't find the words to say. Had it been good as Harry said? Could such a thing truly be good if so many had been killed?

Her gaze darted down at such a thought and locked her fidgeting fingers between each other.

At her prolonged silence, however, Harry nudged her with his shoulder and forced his hand between hers, unclasping her fingers with his own as he did so. She had a habit of intertwining her digits and staring so intently at them that she had memorized the epidermal ridges of her fingerprints long ago. Harry didn't like it. He reprimanded her everytime she did it. He always told her there were more important things to look at.

It was a habit she had yet to break.

"Hermione," he warned. He held her hand loosely in his own and placed a quick kiss against the tips as he leveled her with a look. "You liked it, right?"

Her brown orbs snapped onto Harry's and nodded.

"Good, good," he murmured into her hair. "What part did you enjoy the most? The battle was written so well, right?"

She nodded silently once more.

"Perhaps next we can read-"

She didn't want to listen anymore. Without a second of hesitation, Hermione pushed against his chest, having to strain against the fingers that held her skull in place against him and twisted from his grasp. As she leaned away, Harry's hands shot out and grasped her arms as if she were seconds away from running off.

But she did no such thing and instead, slid from his thigh and clambered back between his legs, her small knees barely leaving an indent in the sheets of her bed. She stared up at him questioningly.

Her fingers intertwined themselves back together but he was focused on her face as she spoke. "If I was kidnapped would you fight to get me back?" she asked, watching Harry carefully as the question threw him. His brows raised onto his forehead in surprise.

"Of coarse," he answered. "You know that."

She bit the insides of her cheeks as she tried to understand. One life versus the lives of thousands. It didn't make sense.

"Does that mean the Trojan war was the right thing to do?" she continued. "For Helen both of her lover's fought to keep her."

"That's because they both loved her so much," Harry reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"But can one person love two people at the same time? How could Helen watch them fight one another?"

He tilted his head in contemplation. "You can love many people at one time, Hermione. Just like how you love Dr. Evans and Dr. Lupin, and the others… and me. But there's always that one, very special person that you can't live without."

"Only one?" Her brown eyes stared up at him intently; wide and curious and so full of questions.

Harry smiled and leaned forward. "Only one," he whispered. He pressed his lips against her forehead once more.

She felt a twinge of disappointment when he didn't bother to elaborate any further.

Hermione dropped her attention back down onto her fingers and twiddled them around one another. She bit down into her bottom lip, feeling her teeth sink deep enough not to puncture. "And how do you know when you find the one you love the most?"

This time, it was Harry that pulled away. When she peeked up towards him, his dark brows were furrowed and he stared at her with an expression she couldn't name. Harry shook his head back and forth, and reached forward to unclasp her fingers.

"You don't need to think about those things," he used his hand to lift up her chin and force her stray attention onto him. "Okay? Everything you will ever need is here, you know that. And you'll always have me. What more could you possibly ask for?," he asked with a laugh.

He didn't give her the change to reply and shot his arms out to pull her back into him. His arms wrapped tightly her as he hugged her. Her own arms, thin and small compared to his, circled his neck in an embrace that was routine.

"You don't ever have to worry about that stuff," he murmured into her ear. "As long as you are here with us, you will be the happiest girl in the world. Helen of Troy will seem miserable when you learn so much more." She laughed- a small, weak huff really but Harry didn't catch it.

Her gaze wandered soundlessly back to the novel that sat at the edge of her bed. The spears continued to glint, the golden armor continued to glisten, the bodies continued to drop. All for the love of one woman. It was a love she didn't understand.

But she wanted to. So very, very badly.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

Draco couldn't breath.

The air was desperately trying to inch its way into his lungs but it couldn't find its way in. It was clawing in agony at his face for entry but he ignored it even as his chest began to constrict on itself.

He couldn't look away. It was as if time itself had frozen and only the two of them existed in that moment.

Draco was scared to blink, afraid that if he broke contact then she would fade away back into the pictures and papers on his desk. Here she was real. She was an actual person before him, with pale flesh and brown curls and-and it was her.

The girl behind the polished glass was Hermione. The girl who had a smile- a real, genuine smile on her face, was Hermione. The girl who held his full attention was her; brown and mercurial silver clashing beautifully against one another.

It was those eyes that held him in place. They were so familiar to him. He had lost track of the hours he had spent staring at her pictures. In the shadows her eyes would be nearly pitch black but when the light hit them just right, as they did now, those iris glowed brightly by the golden flecks buried within, like liquid gold. Her brown orbs sparkled with life and he could see the intelligence burn through, questions and curiosity longing to be sated.

He felt his chest get tighter and his fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach forward, to touch her and make sure she really was real and not a cruel fragment of his imagination. He wouldn't put it past himself knowing the sheer creativity his mind possessed. It wouldn't be as if it would be for the first time.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched as Dr. Lupin stepped forward, further into the observation deck. "Good morning Hermione," his voice rang out through a speaker that fed into the glass room she was in. "Did you enjoy your breakfast?"

Draco paid the doctor no mind. And neither did Hermione. With a quick, wordless nod of her head, she answered Lupin. Nothing more, nothing less. Her focus still rested on Draco; those heavy eyes bore entirely on him.

She was radiating so it was like a stark contrast to see the gloom that lingered to her left. Harry was glaring at him as if he were dirt underneath his nails. If looks could kill, Draco was sure he'd be sprawled across the floor with his blood smeared like a second coating. He assumed Harry was trying to intimidate him but the thought nearly made Draco scoff.

"This is Dr. Malfoy," Lupin continued by raising his hand to gesture towards Draco. "We talked about him, remember?"

It was then that her eyes flickered to the aging man. Again, she silently nodded her head.

"He's going to talk to you for a bit. He's been wanting to meet you for a while now and I know you will answer all of his questions, right?"

The weight of her stare shifted back onto him. It held him in a vice and he knew that even if he tried to escape, he couldn't. But more importantly, he didn't think he would ever find the will too.

Her face gave nothing away as her gaze flared into him. "Questions?" she repeated with a tilt of her head.

It took him a fraction of a second to understand that she was talking to him. She was talking to him. As if a bolt had shot straight through him, he straightened up and regained his composure.

"Yes," he responded. His voice sounded strange even to his own ears. It was thick with something he didn't want to question. "I would like to get to know you on a one on one basis. It will help me as I report back to the corporation."

The corner of her lips lifted as a small smile crept back onto her face. He could see as her body eased back into comfort as she had been before he had walked in. It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless.

He could feel his own lips beginning to stretch to return the gesture but Harry cut in and the moment vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

"And what, exactly, does this report entail?" Harry asked, his voice laced with an anger that would have gone unnoticed if it hadn't been for Draco's trained ear.

Draco glanced at him. "I haven't exactly started, have I?" Sarcasm dripped from his words like a poison.

Harry's gaze narrowed. "But when you do, will we be able to have access to it?"

Draco turned his head to share a quick look with Dr. Lupin before turning back to Harry. "I am under the specific instruction of Mr. Crouch to keep my report private from you and the rest of the faculty here. So, no, you will not have access to it."

Harry stood from his chair with so much force that the legs scratched against the metallic floor. "Remus you can't possibly be okay with this?" he threw his hands out towards Draco. Harry had gone red in the face and the outrage bled from him in strong waves that prickled against Draco's skin.

Draco shifted his head to stare forward, back towards Hermione and watched as her gaze categorized the scene before her. Her eyes shot between Harry and Dr. Lupin as the older man assured Harry that there was truly nothing they could do to say otherwise. She absorbed the angry flush that tainted Harry's cheeks and the way his body sat on edge as he spoke. But then she turned her head and it was just the two of them once again.

The words flying between Harry and Lupin blurred past them as they held each other's attention. They said nothing but it was as if they were truly speaking. It was an experience Draco had never had with another and one that he couldn't quite describe. It was as if he could just understand that there was something there between them- unsaid but true- and he could only wonder if she felt it too. A pull towards one another, like a magnetic force.

"Harry, Dr. Malfoy is here to a job," Lupin sighed. "There is nothing either of us can do otherwise. Now for everyone's sake, I suggest we maintain a professional environment and keep hostilities at bay."

Draco watched as Harry clenched his jaw, but eventually he nodded his head in obedience. It was quiet as Harry leaned down to gather the tray that had held the two breakfast plates and just as Draco thought the dark haired man would stomp away like a petulant child, Harry paused and reached over to cover one of Hermione's hands with his own. Draco's gaze narrowed at the movement, suddenly watching every move Harry made with hawk-like eyes. The harsh glare that had been on Harry's face vanished in an instant as he gazed towards Hermione and bid his farewell.

Draco felt a twinge deep in his gut as he looked on but he bit his tongue in order to stay quiet. He wanted to stick to Dr. Lupin's wishes as much as he could. It was quite apparent that Harry, however, didn't care. As Harry left, he sent a glare towards Draco. It took everything in Draco's power to not sneer or roll his eyes. It wasn't as if he was here to make friends.

With Harry gone, it left only Dr. Lupin.

"I'll be in my office then," he cleared his throat and nodded towards Draco. He did the same towards Hermione and left without another word. When the door shut behind him, the sound seemed to echo against the walls.

He felt it vibrate against his core.

They were alone. Just him and her, separated only by a thick layer of glass. It reminded him of zoos that he had seen pictures of. There would be some animal behind layers upon layers of thick glass, keeping the viewers safe from attack. But the girl before him wasn't some wild animal. She wasn't entirely human but she was still human. He could only wonder why a glass wall had been constructed in the first place.

As he stared ahead at her, he swallowed heavily as her gaze trained on him. Although by now he used to the weight of it, with it only being the two of them, it felt so much stronger.

He pushed forward towards the glass and dragged a chair to sit inches away from the surface. It was silent as he arranged his folders, along with the ones Dr. Lupin had given him, but he could hear the blood rushing through his skull as if it were being played on a loudspeaker.

When he looked back up, his lips parted in surprise. She was no longer sitting at her table. Instead, she had gotten up and moved to stand right in front of him. He hadn't heard her move.

His throat felt too dry when he spoke, "Hello." He mentally rejoiced when his voice didn't crack or dimmer at her sudden closeness. "How are you feeling today?"

She continued to stare at him and he watched as her shoulders rose and fell with each breath she took. In and out, in and out, in and out.

"I feel… normal."

The answer was vague and he couldn't decide if her 'normal' was good or bad.

"Is normal good?" he pried. "Are you happy? Excited?" He threw in the last suggestion to see if it would cause a recollection of what she had told Dr. Lupin about his arrival. He wanted to see if she would have any reaction, some glimmer of life flash across her features.

She appeared to be going over his question and it didn't escape his notice that she sent a quick glance in the direction of where Dr. Lupin had been standing.

"I am glad that I finally get to meet you, Dr. Malfoy."

"Good," he nodded tightly. He wished he could talk to her just as easily as he commanded those he worked with but there was a thick pause in his words, one filled with so much awkwardness on his part that he wanted to bow his head and flee in mortification. For once in his entire life, he was nervous. Bloody nervous- him! He could feel the small quake rattle throughout his body, seeping from the tips of his toes to the impulses of his brain. As he grasped his pen in his hand and brought it down towards the papers, the tip quivered, shaking just as subtle as his hands were.

He eyed his hands with a furrowed brow before throwing down the papers and pen back onto the table top, discarding them without care.

All the meanwhile, he could feel her. Perhaps that's what threw him off. She was everywhere it seemed. The air seemed to buzz and thicken with her simply being there. It was almost suffocating.

It was suffocating. She had him trapped and he was stuck.

He clenched his fists in his lap and met her head on.

Protocol. Follow protocol.

He swallowed down the anxiety that had lodged itself in his mind and forced himself to regain his thoughts. It was damn near impossible but he did.

Or at least, it's what he told himself. Did it really matter that his hands still trembled every few seconds or that his heart rate was still drumming against his wrists or that his breathing was more shallow than it ought to?

He wasn't affected by her. Not in the least.

"I can assure you that the feeling is more than mutual on my part," he said. It was softer than he was used to but then again he did want to ease into any possible… relationship that he may or may not develop with her. Anything to make her more at ease would make his job that much easier. He needed to get her to like him at least. The smile had been a good sign but there was no question on the words they had fed her about him. It wasn't hard to picture Harry spitting his venom into her ears. Then again...

"What have they told you about myself?"

The words were a bit random but he needed the silence to end. Even though quiet is what he desperately craved for, now was not the time. He needed her to talk. Talking is the human form of building comfort amongst one another, he reminded himself. It had been listed there in the top three ways of building relationships as his guide to understanding sociological human behavior had described. Talking, niceties, and...contact to contact.

His fists clenched tighter.

He watched her closely as she began to slowly walk back and forth, just beyond the surface of the glass that her fingers were trailing against the smooth surface. Her gaze never left him.

"Different things," she answered. His ears perked up at the smoothness of her voice. She spoke clearly, every letter and sound crisp with her english accent. Her voice was a mere whisper but it blew into him like a warmth, coating him whole. It clicked in his brain then. Suffocating hadn't been the correct word. From her looks, to her sound, to the sheer intelligence that radiated from her- Hermione was intoxicating.

He averted his gaze quickly.

"Care to elaborate?"

She considered him as she spoke. "You are an expert," Hermione answered. "The best as they come."

His eyes flickered up to her. "Nothing else?"

"Dr. Lupin says you are very intelligent for your age. They said you would be an exceptional addition to our fam- to the staff."

His brows rose high onto his forehead. He hadn't missed what she had nearly said. Family. The word was a foreign concept to him. It was something he couldn't understand the importance of and really, it was something he didn't want to understand. He didn't have one. He had never needed one either. All he had ever known were his parents, but he didn't see them like everyone else saw their parents.

From the moment he had met Nott, the young man would drone on and on about his father's harsh expectations- always griping about having to please the good 'ol dad- but no matter how negatively Nott spoke, he was always visiting his father on the weekends, eating lunch at his father's executive office that just happened to be a few blocks from the corporation, and always, always talking about him with the biggest smile on his face.

Draco had always stayed quiet during those conversations. He didn't particularly like when he was in an unfamiliar zone. He had no idea about the workings of a family. For Draco, he only saw his parents twice a year and it was only ever at their lab when he was sent for his annual doctor visits. When he thought of his father, he only thought of lights being shined into his pupils and stark white lab coats that were perfectly stitched with the elegant Dr. Lucius Malfoy on display. His mother was just the same; with a matching lab coat reading Dr. Narcissa Black and glove clad fingers that held her clipboard tightly as his vitals were read. The most affection he would receive was a proud pat on the back from his father and a soft cheek rub from his mother.

The gloves were always cold against his skin. He didn't like the texture.

Even hours later after he had left, he would still rub against his cheeks to vanish the lingering feeling away. It was just too alienish for his comfort.

But with Hermione, she had been almost… calm with nearly saying the word. As if it were natural, something that she said on a weekly, if not daily, basis. It was completely ridiculous on her part- truly- but he didn't want to be the one to tell her that she had no family. These people weren't what a family should be.

It was incredibly depressing. For who, he didn't quite know.

Perhaps for the both of them.

"Well… I hope Dr. Lupin's words prove to be true," his whispered.

Her steps came to a lazy halt in front of him. He had to look up at her since he was still sitting down but up close, he couldn't help but take her in. With only mere inches of glass separating them, he could see her so clearly, better than any camera could possibly ever do.

The longer he looked, the faster he could feel himself sinking into the deep, dark abyss of her eyes. He was falling deeper and deeper and deeper.

She tilted her head to the side. "Won't they?"

He slowly allowed his gaze to fall. "I don't know," he responded, truthfully. He wouldn't feed her lies. He wanted the two of them to speak only truths to each other. "If it means anything, I can give you my word that I will try for the best. Does that sound fine, Hermione?"

Her lips quirked, stretching into a pleased grin before she returned to her pacing.

A stretch of silence surrounded them as he watched her go back and forth, still dragging her thin fingers against still. And for once, with a start, he realized for the first time that he was comfortable while in the presence of someone else. She didn't bother him with questions or pointed looks or have an intelligence so dull that it should be outlawed. No, she did none of that.

She was… she was perfect. The type of person that he had always longed to meet.

He didn't know what to quite think of that.

Draco licked at his lips in panic. His thoughts were traveling to places it ought not to; dangerous and forbidden. He needed to do something- anything- to make the silence stop. Silence allowed his mind to do whatever the hell it wanted, without any restraint or control on his part.

"You know," he rushed out, "you have a very unusual name. It isn't very common."

"A unique name means a unique character," Hermione replied, her chin lifting slightly into the air. "I am unique. I am something new."

"Yes but-"

"Is it as uncommon as Draco?"

Hearing his name fall from her lips threw him. The way the syllables rolled off her tongue sent shivers down his spine. It sounded so… intimate.

He sat up straighter in his chair. Off limits. Completely off limits, he scolded himself.

"And how do you know my name?" he peered at her from beneath his lashes, his brows lowered in curiosity.

She shrugged carelessly. "The same way you know mine."

His question was met with silence. She remained looking at him, her gaze unblinking. The way she watched him felt as if she were a predator, watching his every move and waiting for him to slip up. She didn't trust him, he didn't blame her. It was human to be on guard around strangers. And to her, he was just that- a stranger.

"Was it Dr. Lupin?" he asked. "Harry?"

She didn't respond. Instead, her gaze drifted upwards towards the ceiling of her room. He could see the intensity in her eyes as she stared, focused on something he couldn't begin to guess.

He frowned, "Hermione-"

Her head tilted back down to look at him. "If I answer your questions, can I go outside?"

The question had left him speechless. But it was her eyes that made his heart clench. She was looking at him with such desperation and longing that his face melted into concern. He blinked and it was as if he could finally see the glass wall for what it was- a cage. It kept her in isolation, surrounded by three grey cement walls and a glass panel, with a grey ceiling that had no opening apart from a small skylight window positioned straight above her bed.

It looked all too familiar. Grey, grey, and more grey with only a splash of pale pink that covered her bed sheets and a matching cushioned chair in the farthest corner. The only object in the room was a white stuffed bear. There was nothing more. He knew she must have been bored out of her mind. A person couldn't live like that, being trapped day after day after day. He felt his chest ache as he mentally pondered when the last time she left the room was. It could have been weeks, possibly even months. He would bring it to Lupin's attention as soon as he left her.

He shook his head softly, "Not... not right now."

Her gaze dropped from him and he could feel sadness grip him in its cruel grasp. He knew he needed to do something- he needed to help her. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to see that smile again.

"But," his voice recaptured her attention, "tomorrow's weather forecast is perfect for an outdoor excursion. I can get the others to let you go outside for however long you want. Is that something you want, Hermione?"

She nodded her head, her gaze watching him warily.

"I can make it happen," he promised. "You just have to cooperate with me, okay?"

Again, she nodded her head. "Okay."

Without another word, she shoved her hands into the large pockets of her grey, wool jumper and turned away from him. The sounds of her bare feet patting against the metallic floor filled the air as she made her way to her bed.

"I feel normal because I am in here," she glanced around her room before sitting criss crossed on the edge of her bed. "I get excited when I get to go outside. I've never met anyone else except for my family and friends here. So when I was informed someone new was coming, I couldn't wait until you arrived. I'm happy to meet you, Dr. Malfoy. In the flesh."

An involuntary shiver ran down his back. Thankfully, he was still able to grin in affection without it being too forced. She couldn't possibly know what she was doing. It was him. He was too caught up in her.

"You're happy? Describe to me what you feel," he pushed, remembering Dr. Lupin's warning about Hermione's emotions. For all any of them knew, her happiness could be something so different than their own that is was something else entirely, something possibly otherworldly.

Her brows furrowed. "You are asking me to describe my feelings towards you?" she asked in confusion. "Dr. Lupin said I would be excited to see a new face. Dr. Evans said you would make me happy because you are going to make me better. I am happy to see you, not sad or angry or-." Her words were rushed, almost in a frantic, panicked way.

Draco held up his hand, shaking his head, "No, I meant for you to describe what your happiness feels like. That's all."

Her look of confusion didn't waver. "My… happiness?" She looked down towards her fingers that were intertwined together in her lap. She shook her head, "I am not... sad. Happiness is- is satisfaction."

He was beginning to see what Dr. Lupin had tried to explain. Hermione could only function when she being told what to do or how to feel. It's how she had adapted to learn after she had been accustomed to it for her entire life.

Perhaps his work here wasn't going to be as straightforward as he thought. There was a long, hard road ahead of him but he would take it day by day if he had to. He wasn't going to fail. Not her. She didn't deserve to fail.

"Well, I am glad that you are happy," he told her. He knew that she probably didn't know what true happiness was but it felt good to hear those words fall from her lips. He wouldn't blame her for not knowing. There were human beings that didn't know the true emotion either.

He wasn't entirely sure if even he knew.

Before he knew it, the door opened and he watched as she instantly sat up straighter as the adults began to file into the room, all giving her their animated greetings with smiles in perfect places.

This was her life. These people, this room… it was all her, he realized. Draco continued to watch as she responded to each individual, how her smile would light up the room and infect the others. Seeing her like that made him understand that she did know what happiness was, even if it were a mere slice.

His observations were put to an end, however, when Dr. Lupin asked for his presence in the offices again. He nodded quickly and moved to turn but he halted as he eyed Dr. Lupin a few feet ahead. Before he could think otherwise, he turned his head to look over his shoulder and his gaze caught onto hers for the dozenth time. They held for one heartbeat, then two, then three, and as he neared the door, he inclined his head towards her in a silent departure.

With a subtle nod of her head, she returned the gesture. He turned forward and could feel the corner of his lips inch upwards.

The exchange had been private. It had been theirs.

He felt Hermione's gaze the entire way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I will apologize now if I totally butchered that 'Iliad' reference at the beginning. It's been quite some time since I read it so I went off of my memory. Don't hate me please.


	6. Chapter 6

The argument was starting to get old; making Draco feel the spike in his frustration and the pounding that began echoing throughout his skull. It was sharp and cutting and he had to pinch the bridge of his nose to keep it bay as much as he could. But it was so damn hard the longer their conversation switched back and forth, the longer the words were beginning to slur together.

He clenched his eyes shut briefly, hiding behind the hand over his face. His head was absolutely throbbing. But his eyes opened just as fast and with a heavy, impatient sigh, he addressed the man before him, "I do not see what could possibly be wrong with allowing her to go outside more."

When Dr. Lupin opened his mouth and began to spew his words of utter nonsense, Draco could see the haze that blurred his vision. He had no patience for this. None. Whatsoever.

But- he was trying to stay on their good side. He had made a promise that he would try and it wasn't a promise that he wanted to go to waste. It was the only promise he had ever been asked to do and somewhere deep, deep down in his conscience, he knew it was important. Whether because it was from her or-or otherwise, he didn't quite know. But it was important. So he was trying.

"If Hermione asks to be allowed outside, we should not refuse to allow her just that," Draco insisted.

A noise of exasperation left Dr. Lupin's throat. "Hermione has a strict schedule that we keep to. If we do not follow it, then any sudden changes could throw her-"

"Dr. Lupin, do not treat me as a fool," Draco's voice lowered in warning. "She has hours of free time that she spends wandering around that cage. Instead of letting her waste those hours, let her go outside- let Hermione do whatever she wishes."

"Cage?" the greying man repeated in confusion. He opened his mouth to argue but Draco didn't allow him to utter another word and was quick to continue.

"There would be nothing wrong with allowing her outdoors for at least two hours of the day, on a day-to-day basis."

"Believe me, Dr. Malfoy, I want nothing more than for her to be happy at all hours of the day, but you do not understand that we give our orders with Hermione's complete well being and safety in mind. Please do not make this any more difficult than it already is."

Draco could only stare at the man, dumbfounded with the words he heard. If they truly cared so much about her well being, then she wouldn't be rotting away in that damn room. And safety? Safety?! Hermione would be enclosed within the property; the high fence acting as her cage outside of her cage. But she wouldn't see it as that. She had never seen it like that.

"Give me one day," he spoke He wasn't really asking but Dr. Lupin would think he was and somehow Draco knew that the good doctor wouldn't refuse the opportunity to appear to be trying, for all individuals at stake. Lupin still regarded him warily, eyeing his figure as if expecting Draco to snap.

"One day is all I am asking. If anything occurs with Hermione that I can understand where your refusal of allowing her outside is coming from, then I will back off and not bring it up for the remaining duration of my stay."

Lupin met his gaze head on and with each second that passed, Draco swore that he could hear the cogs turning within the man's head. But then, when the silence was just beginning to soothe the pulsations at Draco's temples, Dr. Lupin nodded.

"One day," the older man confirmed. "If all turns out well… then we can take it from there. I am not entirely sure how comfortable Dr. Evans will be with daily outdoor excursions but I suppose we have to start somewhere."

A flash of victory shot throughout Draco's frame and he smothered the grin that fought to surface. He could only imagine how happy Hermione would be when he delivered the news. That smile on display, those deep eyes focused on him and only him...

"Can I depend on you to deliver the change of events to Harry or-"

The man's words jolted him on the spot. His brows furrowed. "I'm sorry doctor, but why would I do that? No offense to Potter or you, but it isn't like I can't do the work on my own. I am more than perfectly capable."

"I mean no offense either nor do I question your capabilities but Harry knows the grounds. He knows where to take her, how far to go, and what to show her. If you want to take Hermione outside tomorrow, Harry will be there to accompany the both of you. And… if things were to take a turn for the worse, he is better suited to handle the situation. She trusts him, and you-" Dr. Lupin frowned, "- I'm afraid I can't say the same."

It was a slap in the face. Draco could only stare, his jaw clenching and fists tightening by his sides. But he kept his mouth shut.

The words kept replaying even as he sulked up to the main house.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

"How did it go down there?" Ron asked, sliding the glass door behind him as he joined Draco on the porch. The redhead had two glasses in his hand and a rectangular bottle filled with an amber liquid in the other. Draco glanced down at the water bottle beside him before turning toward Ron.

"It went well," he replied back. A bit stiffly in truth, but if Ron noticed he didn't mention it. "I got to talk to her at least."

Ron sat down in the wooden chair next to Draco and began to pour the drinks. "Did you talk to her alone?" he questioned. Ron kept his baby blue gaze down to concentrate on the task at hand so didn't see as Draco stared the man down.

After a short moment Draco answered, "Yes. Why would that matter?"

"It doesn't. But it does explain why Harry was in such a pissy mood." Ron brought his attention to Draco and grinned his lopsided grin. "He's been absolute hell all day today so I just figured it had something to do with whatever happened down there," he jutted his chin towards the cement building that just happened to be only a few yards away from this specific awning.

He hardly paid any attention to the words Ron was saying. Instead, Draco's grey eyes were trained on the door, wondering just what she was doing at this very moment.

"Harry can be very… protective over her."

"Protective?" he repeated. Draco tilted his head to the side in contemplation, "I didn't realize that I was considered a threat. Has he been voicing his opinions to the others?"

"What?" Ron's brow furrowed in confusion but then he shook his head from side to side, "No, no, he hasn't said anything like that. I can just tell. After so many years you can't help but kinda know how the people here are and well, I just- I'm just talking out of my arse, I guess. It's kinda refreshing having a new face around. Especially someone that isn't totally obsessed with that- with her."

Draco followed Ron's line of sight back towards the cement building.

It felt closer somehow.

"I mean, you met her today," Ron continued. "You got to see her face to face, got to hear her talk and see how she acts. It's weird knowing that she isn't like us- isn't normal, y'know?"

Draco nodded his head silently.

"The doctors I can understand. Neville and Bella and Hannah are tolerable at most but Harry- Harry completely revolves around the girl. Everything he does or says is always about her. 'Hermione this' and 'Hermione that' and it's so bloody infuriating."

Draco eyed the glass of whiskey in Ron's hand, just now recalling that the man was well on his way on nursing his third glass.

Draco had yet to take a single sip.

He wondered if this is what is was like to get drunk. He wouldn't know, he had never gotten to that point, never gotten a buzz either, but if endlessly talking was a side effect, Draco couldn't believe Ron would dare do it in front of someone he didn't know. An alcohol muddled brain let loose to spill his most darkest secrets, his most unspeakable thoughts. Draco's gaze slid to the half filled decanter. What a dangerous weapon.

"I think he's in love with her."

Draco's head whipped to the side in an instant. He couldn't have possibly just said...The redhead suddenly had all of Draco's attention then.

His mouth was moving before he was actually aware of it, "What?"

"You'd have to be blind not to see it. The touches... the smiles... the way he looks and talks to her…"

Draco sat straighter in his chair. He was quick to place his untouched drink onto the small table and turned towards the redhead. "Are you sure?" he whispered. Grey eyes stared hard. "You cannot insinuate something to that magnitude and not be absolutely sure."

But Ron was trapped in his alcohol induced state, his bright blue gaze fuzzy and unfocused.

"If he were to love her… do you think she would be able to love him back? Can she even love like that since she is- since she is what she is?"

Draco's gaze snapped back to the cement building. No, no, no. There was a strange feeling building up in his chest and he ached to claw at his flesh until the feeling spilled from him and pooled at his feet. His throat felt tight, too tight, and he could feel the static slowly creep into his skull.

He clenched his jaw, feeling the vein throb, and had to squeeze his eyes shut to fight the awful noise that was steadily getting louder with each second that passed.

But the feeling was still bubbling beneath his surface- something that made his fingers tremble even as they dug into the fabric of his trousers and frayed his nerves. It was something he had never experienced before.

Panic.

It gripped him hard in its grasp and squeezed harder and harder.

Draco's eyes shot open. "She doesn't love him," he rushed out but the words were quiet and he doubted that Ron had heard them.

"I mean, he's the only person she's ever been really close to. Ever since she was a toddler it was always the two of them. Creepy as shit to think of it like that but-"

"She doesn't love him," Draco tried again. It was stronger this time.

Ron's head turned to the side acknowledging that he heard him and raised his hands to cover his freckled ears. The breath caught in Draco's lungs. Had he shouted those words?

"I suppose you're right," Ron nodded his head. "Sucks for Harry though. Poor sod had to go and fall in love with the only being on the planet that doesn't have the ability to love him back."

He didn't bother to correct Ron. He had met his limit for today. The feeling in his chest was still too fresh for his mind to think of anything else. And it burned. Everything burned. His clothes scorched his skin.

Draco shot from his chair and ignored how Ron jolted at the sudden movement. "I'm done for the day. I'll see you at breakfast."

He didn't allow Ron to return his parting words and quickly spun around on the heels of his feet to swiftly stride through the top floor towards his bedroom.

By the time he reached the room, he was ripping the buttons of his shirt open and prying it away from his body with trembling hands. His belt was tugged off in one swift tug and his fingers were quick to fumble with the zipper of his trousers until he yanked them down with his underwear. It had taken less than a second to step out of them and glide towards his bathroom, retching the door open and hastily turning on the shower before throwing himself in.

The cold only made things worse. His muscles screamed in agony as the water pelted against his pale skin. He had thought it would lower the heat that coursed through his body but he had been wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

His hands quickly turned the cold off while reaching over instead to push the hot knob as far as it would go. He hardly registered the reddening of his skin as the water pushed dangerous temperatures because it all felt so good. His muscles were finally able to relax and the air was finally allowed to leave his lungs in even waves; in and out, in and out.

His chest was heaving with each breath he greedily consumed. Draco's head tilted back as the water trailed down his body and rested against the smooth tiles. With his eyes closed, he couldn't help but see her. Physically he may have been drowning in his shower but mentally, he was with her. It was always her when he closed his eyes. Always.

He envisioned her asleep in her bed, bunched up in her pale pink covers perhaps clutching that white bear for any source of companionship. Her honey colored hair would be surrounding her head as an ethereal halo and her face would be relaxed, with no fears in the world and he would be able to watch her as she slept, memorizing the delicate frame and angles of her face, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath that she took. And as he approached her, those eyes of hers would open and set on him and she would smile and reach out to take his hand-

His breathing became labored. His jaw trembled.

Somehow, his hands- his real hands- turned into her hands and they were brushing against his skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they brushed their way lower and lower until her fingers, soft and smooth to the touch, were brushing against his hardening member between his legs.

He was panting, his eyes clenched shut as the vision played against the lids of his eyes.

It was blissful torture.

The burning across his flesh increased but this time it was different- he was enjoying it and it was soothing as it shot through him, consumed him. His hands moved faster and faster and faster, until he bit into his bottom lip to smother the moan as he spilled forth.

The water continued to poor from above and with each sound that escaped his lips, it was drowned and smothered for his ears only.

He had never been one for believing in religious aspects, but if he did, he would say he was somewhere between heaven and hell.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I hear you want to take Hermione outside today."

Draco's fingers stilled against his keyboard and looked up over the brim of his computer to stare at the individual standing in the doorway of his office. He would have been an idiot if he hadn't heard the poison that laced Potter's voice.

But just as quickly as Draco looked up from his computer, he returned his gaze back down.

"I am."

Potter's eyes narrowed into slits. He took a step further into the office. "And when, may I ask, were you planning on informing me? Remus just informed me a few minutes ago and that was only because I stopped by his office."

Draco decided he would start closing his door during his working hours. Perhaps locking it too, and then throwing away the key.

He didn't bother glancing back at the man and continued typing away.

"I am sure you would have noticed the second she was let anyways," Draco drawled out. "You do an excellent job on keeping tabs on her being at every moment, so I have been informed."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Potter icily shot back.

"It means exactly as I said." Draco glanced up and sneered at the nuisance in the room, "I understand you are no doctor, but I was told you were intellectually inclined above average."

Potter's face turned a glorious shade of red. "I'll be waiting with her then," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"I'm sure you will be," Draco muttered, just as Potter turned on his heel and marched back through where he had come.

With Potter gone, Draco closed the tabs on his computer and pushed himself up from the desk. He wasn't going to risk the possibility of Harry storming off with Hermione and getting lost somewhere in the damn woods that he would not be able to find. He certainly wouldn't put it past Potter.

His footsteps were quick and steady down the hall, and once he entered the observation deck, his eyes were glued onto Hermione as Harry stood before her. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Seeing Potter so carefree with her, standing in the same room without a panel of glass separating them, made his stomach coil tightly.

Draco didn't know what it was like to be so close, to breath the very same air she did and have to resist the temptation to reach out and touch her just to prove that she actually was real and not some hologram that would turn out to be a cruel test that Crouch wanted to conduct on him. Draco had never been in the same room with her. Had never been able to feel her body heat morph against his own. Had never been able to smell her before. He hadn't gotten close. Not yet, at least.

Yet there Potter was.

If either of them heard him enter the deck, neither of them acknowledged his presence and he took his invisibility to really look at their interactions, hearing yesterday's remnant whispers of Ron's accusations drift into his brain.

Hermione was crouched down tying her black converse, with a smile that lingered on her face as she talked up to Harry. Her thick grey hood was drawn up and her golden brown locks were spilling from the sides. He watched her closely and analyzed every motion she did.

In truth, for the past hour he had shifted through video after video after video of surveillance clips, trying to find anything between the two that could suggest that Ron had been right. He had stared so hard until his retinas had burned and thensome until he could dismiss the possibility from his mind.

And now, seeing them together, alone, only reassured him of his findings. Hermione acted the same way with Harry as she did with the rest of the staff. There was nothing more to them, nothing that distinguished Harry from the others.

It was the greatest finding of his entire fucking career.

His observation was cut, however, when Hermione's head turned to the side and those dark eyes of hers were trained on him. She held his gaze and it was as if Potter was no longer there- just him and her.

"Good morning, Dr. Malfoy," she spoke.

He ignored the harsh glare that Potter sent him. Almost as if Potter couldn't believe he would dare interrupt him. Draco fought the urge to laugh in his face.

Instead, he inclined his head towards her, "Good morning, Hermione." He stepped further into the observation lab and glanced a look at the door that seperated the lab from her room. It seemed to taunt him.

It was taunting him.

Laughing at him.

Telling him that he couldn't have what Hermione and Potter did, that he wasn't welcomed in there.

He was quick to look away and back towards Hermione. "Are you ready to go outside?"

She stood up from her position on the floor, eyes flashing towards Potter before she stepped towards the glass. With her eyes on him now, she nodded her head. "Yes."

He looked back towards the door.

It's what was keeping her in that damn room. Locked away. From him.

Keeping his eyes glued on her, he walked to the cemented door and scanned his badge. Like with every door in the underground base, a loud beep shot throughout the room just as the deadbolts on the door shifted their position.

Hermione's gaze shifted from him to the door, then back to him. The question in her eyes was burning into him.

He nodded, giving her the permission she was asking. She didn't give him a second to reconsider and began to move towards the door.

He held his breath as she approached him. Her footsteps were soft, almost hesitant, as she got closer and closer to him. And then, she was there. Physically stepping through the door frame and into the same room as him. He thought he was consumed before, but now, she was strangling him without even touching him. The small hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end with her proximity but he didn't dare take his eyes from her, afraid that maybe this was all fake. Perhaps he was still asleep or had accidently dozed off in his office.

He didn't dare look away.

Hermione stopped a mere feet away from him and eyed his form like she was analyzing him from head to toe. The heaviness of her gaze made him want to shift but he forced his feet to stay put, forced his gaze to continue to hold against hers.

It was almost too much for him to handle. There was too much of her to take in that he felt his head was seconds from exploding. His eyes fought to memorize every inch of her as if he would die if he didn't. And from how she had yet to look away from him, it seemed she was doing the same.

Draco knew he would never get tired of seeing her. He could spend day after day after day looking at her, taking her in, memorizing her, but his time was cut short as their moment was interrupted.

Potter cleared his throat loudly- too loudly- snapping both of their attention toward him at the sudden noise. His brow was furrowed as he gazed between the two, then stepped to pass Hermione. "Let's go then."

Potter held his hand out towards Hermione but to Draco's surprise, she didn't rush forward, nor did she react. Instead, she remained closer to him, almost hovering like a curious child.

Yet when seconds began to drift by and she made no move to step towards the door, it dawned on him. She was waiting for him. She wanted him to make the first move; she wanted to follow after him, not Potter.

His chest tightened when that familiar rush of- of something- flashed through. He couldn't dwell on it now, not in front of the two of them. Even though the more he experienced these… things, the more he wanted to analyze and record and understand what the hell was happening to him because it wasn't normal. He should not be experiencing any of -

He blinked, remembering where he was and who he was with. He forced the thoughts from his mind and nodded towards the door, stepping forward.

The moment he moved, she did the same. He felt her right on his heels.

He ignored the itch beneath his skin.

She watched the way his form moved beneath his clothes, not being able to help but absorb every move he made. His back was straight, shoulders poised in perfect angles but not too tight that made him look stiff or too slouched that would remind her an awful lot of Harry.

No, he was nothing like Harry. Dr. Malfoy's posture was prescience and immaculate with lithe muscles that strained against the pale flesh that his folded cuffs showed off. Even with the fabric of his button collared shirt, she could trace the patterns of his flesh with her eyes; along the spanse of his back, down his triceps and the biceps of his thighs, straight to his calves through the fitted material of his trousers. With each step he took, the muscles pulled together like spun glass and her eyes absorbed every motion, too captivated to be turned away even as they made their way down the hall.

Nothing had changed. It was the same grey walls and fluorescent lights that made her want to squint at their intensity. Underneath the bulbs everything always seemed so bright. So harsh.

She bent her head down to keep as much of the light out of her eyes as possible but stayed as close to Dr. Malfoy as she could when she realized his frame blocked much of it already.

But Hermione got too close.

When they were halfway down the hall, her leg brushed against his and she heard him sharply inhale. She realized her mistake immediately and withdrew from him as if he had burned her. Sometimes she forgot that not everyone… enjoyed her presence like her friends and family did. It was easy to forget that some people did not like being touched, especially by someone- something- like her because everyone she knew never minded that type of interaction from her. The reminder never failed to sting.

But she needed it.

She couldn't keep being so careless, so imperfect.

Hermione would make sure she stayed two steps behind Dr. Malfoy at all times now. Last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. He was here because of her so the least she should do is make him at ease as much as possible.

She bit the inside of her lip. She had thought… after meeting him… she must have misinterpreted his reaction to her. There were not many occasions where she had been wrong but it was still possible. Although she had been so sure that he-

Hermione's head shot up when she realized they were coming to the end of the corridor. The main entrance was right ahead of her. She could see the sunlight rays peeking through the slits of the square window and all thought about feelings and discipline disappeared instantly. Instead, she smiled at the sight and couldn't stand being in there any longer.

So, she shot forward without a second's worth of hesitation.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

 

When he felt Hermione dart past him, panic seized him with its sharp claws digging into his flesh. His eyes widened as he caught sight of her hair blurring past him, and on pure instinct, his hands shot out to grab ahold of her arm. He wrapped his entire right hand around her wrist and at his sudden hold, Hermione's steps stopped dead in their tracks. She spun around quickly to face him, her hair once again a blur of motion that shined against his pupils.

At her sudden halt, however, he had miscalculated the distance it would create between them and he had no time to stop his own steps before he crashed directly into her.

With space now nonexistent, they were flush against one another. The breath in his lungs was pulled out almost forcefully as he looked down the bridge of his nose at her. He opened his mouth to utter his apology but the very moment his lips parted, Hermione's eyes darted to the movement and didn't waver.

Time froze. Draco was sure of it; there was no explanation otherwise. With him pressed against her, he was painfully aware that he could feel her curves that were hidden beneath the loose grey sweats. Her eyes flickered up and like before, they held each other's stare. There was something being said- something was always being said when he faced her- but he couldn't understand, even though he desperately tried to. It was silently brewing between them as they gazed at one another but it was there nonetheless, and he knew she could feel it to. Her head was tilted carefully to the side, brows furrowed slightly as she too tried to understand. They could only stare at each other, obsidian eyes clashing into his mercury ones. But up close, without that damn panel of glass, and touching, he could see that her eyes weren't as dark as he originally thought. They were warm, almost auburn with faint golden rings that circled her pupils. Almost otherworldly. He had never seen eyes like that before.

Draco opened his mouth to try again but she didn't give him the chance. Her gaze snapped to his hands that held her in place and she stared questingly at it, almost as if it mesmerized her, as if she couldn't believe he was actually touching her.

He released her wordlessly. He had crossed a boundary, he knew. He had been out of line to grab her but he had thought she had lunged for the escape. Then she would be gone; gone, gone, gone. And he wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't.

Draco pulled his hands back to his sides and watched silently as she looked back up to him. Her brow was still furrowed and he thought she would turn and run towards Harry but oh how he was wrong.

Hermione slowly reached forward, so slow that he was sure she was waiting for him to pull away but he did no such thing, and at his obvious permission, she took hold of his hand. Her palm glided across his, fingers brushing feather-lite against his own as they molded together. He couldn't look away from the sight of their hands pressed together, couldn't look away from how perfect they fit.

He was speechless. Utterly frozen before her, his mind was blank with nothing but her in consideration. It was all about her; her, her, her.

Then, he felt his arm being extended. She was pulling him towards her, taking him with her as her feet began to ease back into motion.

The main exit got closer with each step, sunlight nearly blinding, but he hardly paid attention. He was still fixated on their clasped hands. He didn't want her to let go. Even though that thought begged to be obliterated, screamed that it was against protocol, he couldn't find the energy to care. Because for the first time, he felt good.

So good that even Potter's deep frown and troubled eyes couldn't ruin it for him.

His fingers wrapped around Hermione's tighter.


	7. Chapter 7

The very moment the door was opened and the sunlight pooled against Hermione's skin, he found himself speechless, utterly captivated in the scene that played for him. His lips were parted as he kept his eyes focused on her face, soaking her up just as she did the sun and thensome. Her head was tilted back, eyelids closed as the rays kissed her pale skin. She had her hand stretched out before her, the other still holding tightly onto him, and had her fingers spread wide apart as if she could physically grab the sunlight in her hand.

He couldn't tear his eyes away. She was ethereal beside him.

With the sunlight beating down on her, her skin looked like porcelain; not a flush to her cheeks or reddening of her lips. She was pale- had always been pale from the pictures in her files but it didn't take away from her. If anything, it made her stand out even more because she was unique in every way and form. As if he could possibly need any more reminders.

But he was still concerned even though he knew she couldn't physically get sick and that she was, technically, in perfect health. The paleness of her skin was something that wouldn't be considered normal for a regular, healthy human. Underneath the stark contrast of the sun, she had the slightest pigment of greyish blue as if she had lived in pitch black darkness for her entire life and the blood that ran in her veins was stagnant and frozen. To him, it looked like she were sculpted from marble, a masterpiece that rivaled those of the very best yet unlike those statues, she was a living, breathing person.

Something deep jolted from within him; that tantalizing thing that was starting to get too comforting, welcoming. His fingers clenched around her own as his eyes shot down to glance at their hands pressed together. It was so… odd to feel someone else holding him, flesh to flesh, but he didn't mind it. Far from it but he knew it was because of who the flesh belonged to. If it had been anyone else, anyone beside her, then he knew-

Potter threw his arms around Hermione, sliding his hands down the length of her arm and pulling her out of Draco's hold with a laugh. The abrupt absence was painful. The emptiness was too much of a cruel reminder. His eyes flared in rage, molten mercury burning within as he looked at the pair. Suddenly, it was Potter's fingers that laced through Hermione's, and it was Potter that was pulling her forward, away from-

"Come on 'Mione," Potter's voice rang out, that horrid laugh scraping against Draco's eardrums. "Race you to the trees!"

And then she was gone, her own laughter sprinkling through the air as she shot after Potter in a haze of golden brown and grey. He couldn't help but wonder if she even realized she had left him behind. And then a much darker thought: Did she even care?

His teeth scraped together, jaw tight and coiled. Like hell if he were going to stand there and let them get away.

Draco inhaled deeply then let his feet sprint ahead.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

She could barely hear his footsteps but she knew he was close. The leaves didn't crunch beneath his feet, not as loudly as they did beneath Harry's, but she could hear him nonetheless. Faint, barely-there noises: crunch, crunch, crunch. His steps were faint and careful as if he were avoiding the leaves and sticks that littered the earth's surface and she had to sharpen her focus to keep track of him.

Twelve paces back.

He had passed Harry long ago. Not a shocking surprise for her as Harry wasn't the most… athletically inclined but then again, it wasn't as if she had ever seen anyone else race him before. He could have been the world's fastest human for all she knew. Or had been, she corrected herself, hearing Draco's soft footsteps still pushing on.

Six paces back.

He was fast. Her brows knit in confusion when she realized he wasn't too far behind. He had caught up, something Harry had never been able to do. Those footsteps were sounding off faster than her own- crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. They weren't fading. They were getting closer.

And closer.

Hermione turned her head to look over her shoulder. Her eyes were quick to scan behind her, peering past the trees and fallen branches until she locked on him. He wasn't far at all. The doctor was a flash of white-blonde that stuck out like a light within the darkness.

Two paces back.

Draco was right behind her now. He was so close now that with every step she took, his foot replaced the one she moved. They were in a rhythmic dance, moving in sync right behind one another. She felt- felt-

Free.

A smile stretched onto her face and she laughed, a carefree sound that she almost didn't recognize. She didn't get to dwell on that as suddenly Draco was right beside her. Her eyes met his and they held when he didn't turn. The forest flew past them in a haze, neither paying attention as they ran, arms and legs pumping to outdo the other. He was pulling ahead of her but she recognized the moment- the very second he pulled back on his effort, muscles and limbs easing their strain- he slowed his pace and she could only stare, watching in fascination as he recalibrated himself just to… just to be beside her.

When she brought her eyes back up to look at him, her lips parted when she found his already on her. There was something… she could feel something there, strong and heavy and unknown. That feeling was tickling against her skin, needy, and she wanted more. So, so much more.

It was the most intoxicating thing she had ever felt.

She heard her breathing turn shallow, heard and felt her heart speed up against her ribs. The blacks of her eyes were blown.

Her breath caught altogether, however, when she noticed Draco's were too.

 

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

He had lost track of how far they had ran off.

Truthfully, he hadn't been keeping note to begin with as his only concern was Hermione- Hermione, Hermione, Hermione- and he had figured eventually they would stop but when her pace didn't lessen and there was no shout from Potter to stop or a sign telling him to go no further, he assumed they were fine. So he didn't care when the forest began to thicken, when the rays of the sun started to dimmer and any audible noise of Potter's footsteps turned nonexistent. He cared about none of it, only paying attention to how his strides matched hers and how he stayed close enough to where if he needed to reach her, he would only need to stretch out his arm and grab her and pull her in.

Eventually, however, a new noise caught his ear and simultaneously his steps dragged when he noticed Hermione's begin to do so as well. The soft sound of trickling water was nothing new, not for him, but he couldn't recall ever being this close to a water's edge. Something about watching the faint rippling and the splash of white water told him to back away but Hermione stayed rooted, her black converse smudged with the earth's dirt as she stood a mere meter from the edge. Her eyes were zeroed in on the surface, skimming along the crystal clear liquid with fascination.

With her distracted, he turned his head to glance behind them, looking for the faintest sign of Potter approaching. If he realized his fingers were stretched in her direction, he paid it no second thought. Instead, he tried to strain himself to hear the tell-tale noises of Potter getting closer. Draco had lost of how long ago it was that they had lost the man in the forest but it wasn't as if Draco gave a damn. Because truly, he didn't.

He only turned back towards Hermione when he was sure Potter was nowhere near. When he caught sight of her once again, she was crouched down, her knees digging into the soil and marking her clothing. Her arm was outstretched past the safety of the ground and her pale fingers hovered over the watery surface, not dipping in.

He watched that hand carefully. Every few seconds a small drop would shoot up from the flushing waves and latch onto her skin. Each time one did, her smile would stretch and a faint laugh would leave her lips.

His feet, on their own accord, made their way to stand beside her. He was so close that his skin felt static-like with her proximity. It felt as if his body was calling for her own.

Draco crouched down but unlike her, he stayed positioned on his feet, not letting his clothing touch the dirt.

His eyes stayed on her outstretched hand as he asked, "Do you like the river?" He moved his attention to her face when her fingers twitched above the water's surface.

Hermione's brows were furrowed slightly.

For one long moment as he was met with her silence, he feared he had spoken too soon or had said something wrong but-

Her eyes met his once again. Then she was reaching and- It felt as if a bolt of electricity ran through his body when her hand grasped his. Her grip was gentle but sure, strong in a sense that made it uniquely her. Draco waited with baited breath as she pulled his hand above the water, her own moving to rest on top of his.

Now, it was his hand that was being splashed with the faint drops.

"I like the river very much," she replied softly. There was a long pause where the two of them simply did nothing but listen to the sound of the rushing water as it ran beneath their fingers. It was so quiet that even breathing felt loud but he wasn't uncomfortable. Of the small time that he had actually ever spent with her, never once had he been anything but comfortable. That itself was a considerable difference between her and… well, everyone else and it wasn't something he tried to fool himself in overlooking.

He wasn't ignorant to admit to himself that there was nothing that he would rather be doing than what he was doing in that very moment with Hermione.

To caught up in… whatever was happening between them- because there was something happening right now, something that he couldn't name but it was something nonetheless, something important - his eyes traveled to the comfort of her face on their own.

The moment he did, however, he could see that there was something she wasn't saying. The faraway glaze in her eyes nearly screamed with words being unsaid and the small furrow between her brows didn't give him any reassurance either so for once in his life, he waited.

Draco didn't dare push because he knew it was the fastest way to make someone scurry back into their safety zone, which in Hermione's case was silence and detachment and the possibility of a psychiatric breakdown and that was something he didn't want.

So he let her find the words to say. He moved his hand so that his fingers moved on top of hers, allowing his palm to slide onto the back of her hand and he held on. With his mind seemingly acting on its own, he let his fingers intertwined between hers and slowly lowered their hands into the water.

When she realized what he was doing, her first reaction was to jerk her arm back into her side, but he held onto her and was quick to find her gaze. Her eyes were wide, abit frantic, but he nodded his head in reassurance.

His nod of encouragement seemed to help her as she quit pulling away but there was still apprehension that flooded her gaze. When he continued to push her hand further into the water, she stared with unblinking eyes.

"Not so bad, right?" he asked. The gentle tone of his voice almost jolted him.

She shook her head but still looked at the water as if it were going to bite. But then, her fingers twitched against his and began to move beneath the surface. He swallowed when she didn't take her hand away from his.

"I-" she licked her lips and somehow, his eyes shot to the motion, "- I have never… touched it… They told me to never get in." He didn't miss the quick glance she gave him from the corner of her eyes.

He slowly nodded his head in understandment, realizing now why she wouldn't actually touch the water but of course- of course- they had told her not to, so naturally she followed their instructions to perfection. Draco's head nodded once more, to himself this time, and said, "Well, this will be our secret then. I won't tell them," he grinned at her.

She skimmed his face, glowing brown eyes settling on his mouth before softly frowning.

"I am not to keep secrets," she explained. "Secrets are not kind to keep from the others."

He had to refrain from rolling his eyes in annoyance. Was there anything those people had allowed her to do? If they were to tell her to stop breathing would she give it her damn well best to do so? There was something so infuriating at the thought that he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and demand she never listen to another word those people spoke but it wasn't her fault and never would he act so cruelly towards her. She didn't know any better. Truly, she didn't. There was no putting it lightly that Hermione had free will on the scale of none to nonexistent. They had all but shackled her to the walls with iron gates around her wrists.

And if they were to do such a thing, she would probably say 'thank you' and not think of how unjust such an act would be.

So if those people told her not to have secrets, then she would listen to the very last detail.

But they had never expected someone like him, he knew. Without a doubt in his mind. Someone who could manipulate any situation with a skilled mindset and quick intuition, bending anything and everyone into his favor. It's what he was good at, what he was trained to do. And he wouldn't dare restrain himself with her.

"Then don't think of it as a secret," he replied with a shrug. Her questioning gaze met his instantly and he was quick to continue. "Don't think of it as anything. If they ask you what you did today, just say you came here with me and… Harry, once he gets here. Unless they ask you specifically if you got into the water, then you won't have to deny or admit to anything."

Hermione drew her bottom lip between her teeth, still watching him in apprehension but he could physically see the gears spinning inside those orbitals of hers. Draco hoped the vision before him would forever be etched into his memory. There was something so breathtaking watching her intelligence shine through as he could see her pick apart every scenario possible, thinking of every string of words that could be said; weighing the odds both in and against her favor- their favor.

Those gears were working in overtime.

Until finally the tension eased from her frame and she smiled, soft and slow.

"Okay," she answered, looking up at him from beneath her dark lashes. "Not a secret then."

He nodded and gave her a smile of his own. "Right."

They were allowed to bask in the sound and feel of the rushing water against their skin for only a few short moments until Hermione's head moved suddenly as she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes sharpened, pupil's constricting so tightly that they almost appeared to not exist.

Draco turned to follow her line of sight but he couldn't see or hear anything.

"Harry's here," she whispered. She pulled her hand from his and pushed herself off of the ground to stand back on her feet. He was quick to do the same. When he towered over her, he pulled her wet hand close and used the dark fabric of his shirt to dry her hand. Which, considering he wasn't wearing a t-shirt, meant he had to put her hand on his side, just below his ribs, and rub downwards, ending just above his naval. He hadn't thought his actions through, acting simply on impulse, and froze when he realized what he had done. With his hand still gripped onto hers, he met her gaze with worry, fearing he had done overstepped a boundary of somesort and he opened his mouth to apologize but then-

Without breaking eye contact, Hermione turned her hand over and repeated the motion.

His breath hitched in his throat when her hand dragged slowly down his abdomen and he felt her fingers twitch against the fabric of his shirt. He silently prayed that she didn't notice the difference in his breathing but when her head tilted to the side and her lips parted, he wanted to curse and scream in mortification but he also wanted her to stay there and never take her hands away. The later was much, much stronger.

Unfortunately, or perhaps for the best, Draco stepped away when he caught the sound of footsteps approaching. Hermione's eyes flashed to the side just as Harry stepped into the small clearing. He was clutching at his sides and breathing heavily, sweat gently coating his forehead.

"That has to be a new record 'Mione," Harry smiled, straining through his heavy panting. His green eyes flickered to the side to glance at Draco with a furrowed brow but neither spoke a word to each other. Harry turned back to Hermione without a pause in his stride and visibly brightened, "Next time we got to time it."

Hermione nodded her head, saying nothing in response. When they walked back altogether this time, Draco felt her eyes on him the entire way.

His shirt was still damp by the time they reached the facility.

 

oOOOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

 

"I have to admit, I've been quite nervous at the prospect of meeting you," a feminine voice called out. "You must have thought I was avoiding you after these past few days."

Draco stopped in his tracks and turned to find a redheaded woman looking at him. It was a face he recognized well.

He shrugged with nonchalance. Honestly, he had forgotten all about the woman. "I knew you would come out eventually. We would have to work together eventually, otherwise, I would have never been sent."

The redhead nodded her head and pushed her hand forward. "Dr. Malfoy, it truly is good to have you here."

He eyed her hand for less than a microsecond, analyzing it until his own arm was pushing forward, "Thank you, Dr. Evans." his reply was short and to the point, no need to drag on any further.

"Forgive me for prying," Dr. Evans frowned, "but… doctor? When did that happen? You can't be more than a few-"

"It's been some time," Draco replied smoothly. "Sometimes I can hardly remember any of it to be truthful."

She nodded her head but that frown was still on her face and she was looking at him so intently that he resisted the urge to shuffle his feet. Then, her eyes downcast as she spoke, "Sorry. It's just, after all this time… I imagined you differently."

"Older?" he suggested with a tight lipped grin. Cause he hadn't heard that before. 

The woman shook her head. "No. Just...different."

Draco wanted to push and ask how different but Dr. Evans shook her head again and straightened up as if a switch had been flicked. "Don't listen to me," she said with a fake laugh. It was almost too painful to listen to but Draco stayed silent. "If you would like, we can talk now."

He was fast to take her up on her offer since technically, he was supposed to have already spoken to her on day one but-

The walk to her office within the house was quick and much to his ease and utter relief, she didn't try to force him into conversation. He sat himself in the chair in front of her desk and masked his face perfectly so she understood he wanted to get straight to business.

"I was informed that you took Hermione outside today," the doctor smiled. "How did it go?"

Draco had to bite the inside of his cheek to refrain himself from cursing aloud. He looked at Dr. Evans with steel eyes and answered clippedly, "It was fine. She enjoyed it."

The woman nodded. "Yes, Hermione was very eager to tell me about her time outside today with you. I must be honest, Draco, it's quite a shock to see her warm up to you so quickly. I had been… quite sure that it would have taken some time before she spoke to you."

Hm. Well wasn't she just wrong.

Draco cleared his throat before he spoke, "Well, I suppose it's a good thing your hypothesis was incorrect." Even he heard the bite behind his words.

Dr. Evans eyed him steadily. Now that they were up close in confined quarters he could see past that annoying facade people liked to build up, and the doctor's was made from crystal clear glass.

She huffed in her seat, "Mr. Crouch had no right to send you here. What we are doing here isn't for his enjoyment. It isn't about the company anymore, it's about her. All of us here care about her, and for you to just come-"

He could see the dislike fuming through her eyes and all he could think was finally- finally someone had the nerve to say how they felt! He almost enjoyed the anger radiating from her.

Draco leaned back into the leather chair, eyes daring and mouth turned into an infuriating smirk. "Mr. Crouch has every right, just as I do. I understand that Hermione is important, but this was- is an experiment, and nothing more," the words sounded strange now, as if his mind was spewing off his mission detail that Crouch had given him but the words had no meaning behind them, not anymore. He had to blink back into the moment, remembering that Crouch was not here nor were his orders being rammed into his skull.

Draco continued to read the lines his mind had already memorize, "Mr. Crouch funded this project so that he and the company would get results. It is your fault that I'm here, since you and your people haven't produced anything new to show her advancements."

Dr. Evans sighed heavily. "In the name of the project, Hermione is nearly complete. You have seen it for yourself that she is physically beyond anything this world has ever seen."

"And mentally?" Draco pushed. His gaze dared her to dismiss any worries about Hermione's mental and emotional capabilities. He didn't know what he would do if the doctor even tried.

The redhead averted her gaze, shaking her head from side to side. "You have to understand that Hermione was our breakthrough. When she was able to breathe and live on her own-" Dr. Evans swallowed, shooting him a hesitant glance. "Her… brothers hadn't survived here. After both attempts… and after watching both of them be lifelessly taken away by Mr. Crouch… you cannot blame us for trying to keep her safe and alive for as long as we can. You can't."

Draco leaned forward. "What you have done is lock her in a room and diminish her ability to properly feel and think. In what you describe as 'keeping her safe' you have ultimately made her suffer by not being able to express herself as she needs to. She doesn't know how to act or think without someone giving her orders."

"And you would know what that's like?" Dr. Evans asked with eyebrows high on her forehead. "To act and feel on your own without someone giving you orders?"

His mouth opened, ready to growl out in his own defense but- but-

Dr. Evans waved her hands. "I don't intend to insult you," she spoke, an apology hidden in plain sight. "And I know you didn't either, but we all have the best intentions for her. Hermione is still evolving, still learning how to deal with everyday life every minute and second that she is alive. "

He forced himself to accept her words. Even if he could sit there and argue for hours on end, he made himself understand where Dr. Evans was coming from, made himself see from the angle she stood. It was… difficult, but he tried anyhow.

"I understand what you're saying," he lied, sending her the best sympathetic look he could muster. "But I want to try dealing with Hermione in a different direction, my own way. At this point, it can't hurt to try something new and I can assure you that Hermione will only be in consideration. If she doesn't like it-" Which, he knew she would. "-then I will switch back to the prior arrangement."

Dr. Evans stayed silent, but nodded her head in agreement. As if she had any say so to begin with.

With nothing more to say, Draco rose up from his chair and moved to step towards the exit but just as he took his first step, her voice called out once more.

"Dr. Malfoy," her tone was more stern than before, "I would advise you to make sure you understand what you are jumping into. Afterall, it is your job to finish this."

Draco stopped in her doorframe, peering over his shoulder to address her, "I know, and that's what I intend on doing."

He was gone before she could utter another word.


End file.
